


Heaven's Envoy

by Endumash



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Ambiguous Dream, Ambiguous False Awakening, Ambiguous Psychosis, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Claude has two Crests and they are natural, Claude keeps pinching himself, Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Discorder - CPTSD, Decapitation, Dimitri makes everyone taste the rainbow, Dimitri says Fuck you Time Pulse, Divine Power's Issues, Gen, Heavy Angst, Moon Demon Dimitri, Paraselene is one hell of a nuke, People like to use Dimitri as a pincushion for weapons, Plot Twist: Claude is the Tempest King... sort of, Self-Harm, Storm Powers, Unreliable Narrator, Unusual Bow, no beta we die like Glenn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:08:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 62,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24840568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Endumash/pseuds/Endumash
Summary: Most of the people of Fódlan know only one deity and she is rarely called by her name.However, the history of the land predates the War of Heroes. In times of yore, other gods were worshipped instead of a single one until the Church of Seiros began to spread their influence. These deities of old were almost completely forgotten and selected individuals remembered them.Unlike the Goddess of Fódlan who personally intervened in the continent's history, these deities don't operate this way and never manifested themselves on the land in humanoid form. They are subtle and instead, they would rather choose a willing creature to enact their will.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Kudos: 25





	1. On his Nickname

The prince is dead, or so is what people believed. There was no public execution and his body –or even his head– was never shown as proof.

Death is a scary concept to many and it doesn’t necessary mean the creature left the world of the living. In a metaphorical sense, the prince is indeed dead… but the same couldn't be said about his body. This wasn’t the first time it happened and probably won’t be the last.

His first death was at the Tragedy of Duscur. He was at Death’s door abut he was not allowed to pass. Dimitri’s body endured. And from ashes, dust and blood, another was born. At first one could say he was still the young prince but in the end it was because of Felix he became known as the Boar Prince. One would never guess why until they witnessed him in battle: fierce and untamed. Many wild beasts can be described that way, but why boar of all things? And both his enemies and allies alike were quick to learn why: unstoppable once he charges and woe of the one who stands in his way. Some people make fun of boars for being fluffy pigs; in truth they as dangerous as any wild animal and woe of the one who crosses one in their path. The really unfortunate ones might lose their lives and the fortunate ones will grimly remember to _never_ mess with a wild boar. Some people could make fun of the prince for being socially awkward and for accidentally breaking things, making him look rather clumsy; in truth he can be as dangerous as a demonic beast and woe of the one who angers him. Not many get to live to see another dawn and the _extremely_ fortunate ones who lived another day will grimly remember him as a monster rather as human.

Even still, Boar Prince was a rather tame and friendly name. What Felix witnessed in the rebellion was something way worse than a “boar”, a sadistic being that delighted in the suffering of his enemies, as he put it in few worlds, “all the world’s evil packed in one smirk”, which could sum it up as the _Devil_.

Calling him a bloodthirsty beast is an insult to wild beasts. There is no malice in their actions and actually, they are far from being bloodthirsty as they do not spill blood for the sake of violence nor they do continuously seek it. None of them take pleasure in killing their prey as they do it to nourish themselves. They do not grasp the concept of morality the way humans do, assuming they have one in the first place.

Dimitri is a whole different story. He has his own moral standards like all humans. It is easy to forgive children for having a black and white morality as they have a difficult time to understand the grey part. On the other hand, on adults this can be alarming. His standards are nearly splitting, a sign of an unstable mind. He engages in the very act he despises and worse, _he enjoys it_.

Call him any derogatory name that comes up to your mind, and he will not deny your claim. He will calmly accept it. Call him a good man or try to bring him on a positive light, and he will deny you. The prince just can’t accept himself as a good person because he is painfully aware he engages in the very act he deems unforgivable. One wonders why the he is full of self-deprecation, his self-hatred being greater than his enemies.


	2. On his Offering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trauma is renewed. An offering is made to a forgotten deity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are going dark and angsty here.

One day after he escaped his execution he began to wander aimlessly, thinking where he should go. He knew he was no longer welcome in his homeland, branded as a murderer and a traitor. While the Alliance was rather neutral towards the Kingdom, it was very unlikely they would welcome him. Dimitri had no idea if the false news about him murdering his own uncle and then presumably executed reached the Alliance. Not only they had no reasons to take him in, if they knew what happened in Faerghus they could probably demand a price for his head. He just couldn’t risk it, even if Claude was there. He was someone he would call a companion, yes, but nowhere as close to grant him a place to stay. Worse, if he refused to hand him over should such thing happen, then a war between their nations wasn’t a wild idea and it was the last thing Dimitri wanted.

This was the first time he truly felt lost. No place to call home and unwelcome on every corner in Fódlan. Taking his own life crossed his mind several times since the Tragedy of Duscur, but he was never been able to do it on his own because every time he tried, they returned to remind him he still had a duty to fulfil. He can’t die until he offers them Edelgard’s head. Only then he would allow someone to end him and join them… or to burn forever in the Eternal Flames for his past and future crimes. And so he marched towards Imperial territory. He didn’t care how crazy and impossible his goal was. It had to be done, all for their sake.

Two days after he escaped his execution he began to put use to his hunting skills. While skilled but no expert with the bow, Dimitri wished he had one. However, he was the best lancer among his class and grateful for the one that Dedue handed him during his escape. For once, he was bitterly grateful he was unable to taste things, for anything that moved in the wild was fair game to him, from big bears to small insects –and he began to take a liking the crunchy ones–. As long as they satiate his hunger he did not care what he was eating, let alone the quality –yes, he did eat the weeds–. Good things humans are omnivorous creatures and Dimitri took full advantage of this trait.

Three days after he escaped his execution he sighted some imperials troops in the Kingdom territory. As much as he wanted them out of his homeland, he decided to sneak on them and try to hear anything useful, such as why they were in Faerghus in the first place. He didn’t need to know the Empire and the Kingdom were at war; his question was how far they managed to get into the land with ease and untouched. Then his blood boiled. After his execution, Cornelia seized control of House Blaiddyd and not only she surrendered to Adrestia, she invited them to the Kingdom’s lands, now a Dukedom.

Following the troops, they stopped on a small village. People looked at them suspiciously but as they had neither weapons nor guards, they had no choice but to let them in. Then they ordered the civilians not to leave the place, and when asked why it was met with a simple order from Cornelia. Dimitri waited nearby behind the trees to keep an eye on them. So far they haven’t done anything harmful towards the villagers.

Later on that night he sighted mages with black robes reaching the village and welcomed by the soldiers before they left with the women and children. When the men protested, they were met with fists and non-lethal hits of their weapons. Without even thinking, Dimitri lunged forward, leaving his weapon behind. A single wild lariat was enough to make a soldier’s head fly across the scenery, blood gushing from the decapitated body. It took a few seconds for everyone to process what just happened. The prince took those few seconds to kill another soldier by grabbing his head with both hands and twisting the neck 180º, the sound of cracking bones and a choked cry being what ultimately gave the people a reality check. People began to panic, while the soldiers tried to stop at the rampaging boar that was effortlessly killing them with his bare hands. Then, the soldiers were the ones who started to panic as they found no way to subdue their enemy. The villagers started to run away, until one mage put his men in line.

With the darkness that Solon used to immobilize Byleth, the mages worked in unison to do restrain Dimitri’s movements and the villagers that were running away. They gathered the men and they hopelessly watched as the soldiers began to take their women and children away from them.

Magic and anything related to it wasn’t the prince’s forte, including resistance against it. The dark mages knew and exploited it, pressuring their captive with more darkness. Dimitri did not know what their plans were and he did not want to know, but he was powerless to stop them. He did not need to guess that something macabre was going to happen, their mere presence emanating a sense of dread was enough proof.

“We have been told the prince was dead. I guess it turned out to be a lie. I suppose we should finish what Cornelia started,” said one of the mages who stood up in front of the prince, and then he ordered his men to make the preparations. The other mages moved towards the villagers while holding something in their hands. They looked like some kind of stone, fragments of a whole thing. They began to bury them into their chests, forcing them in, piercing through their flesh while they screamed and squirmed in pain. “Now, I do wonder what would happen if we mix your blood with it…”

The mage pulled out a dagger and grabbed Dimitri’s arm, slicing his wrist. Blood fell to the ground. This was the stuff of nightmares for Dimitri. As the mages use their magic to guide his blood –draining more from him in the process– to the screaming villagers, fire erupted from the stones within them, making it seem they now screamed as if they were being burned alive. This intensified a still fresh and untreated trauma: Duscur. But this was worse. His blood didn’t evaporate with the fire, actually both of them combining, seemingly melting the innocent flesh into one massive and monstrous creature as the crests stones moved to one spot and buried themselves deep within the new body. “Magnificent… this is a great discovery and a great accomplishment… we should keep you alive so we may make use of your blood.”

The prince began to sport a stressful grin as his left lower eyelid twitched and under the extreme stress he was under and he busted into a manic laughter, even more deranged when the Flame Emperor was unmasked. “Accomplishment? Accomplishment, you say? You call THIS an accomplishment?! You call this senseless slaughter an accomplishment?! STOP FUKCING AROUND!” He kept laughing and he slowly began to growl as he began to speak again. “Ah… I see. I see. I see. _I see._ _El…_ you did this to assault Garrech Mach? Those beasts you used to attack Garreg Mach were your people? Or someone else’s? And that’s why you sought to steal the crests stones within the Holy Tomb… No… no, no, no! NO!”

Some of the mages weakened their hold on the prince out of fear. Fear of being unable to understand him as he began to rant things, calling the new emperor a monster, calling himself a monster, calling them monsters to the point he was reduced of saying only “monsters”.

Even if their hold on him weakened, Dimitri shouldn’t have been able to break free and still, he freed himself. The mages tried to immobilize the enraged prince again, dark tendrils sprouting out from their hands, only to be completely ignored. The darkness could not touch him. They tried to burn him, but the fire could not touch him. They tried to freeze him, but the ice had no effect on him. They tried to push him away with strong gales, but he seemed to be stronger than the wind. The only thing they could do was to watch as he slaughtered everyone, for he had nothing left to protect. The mage’s only hope was the gigantic demonic beast that just formed from the prince’s blood and the villager’s flesh.

“Kill that beast, now! Tear him apart; eat him alive, anything to get rid of that filth away from my sight!” The mage who cut Dimitri’s wrist pointed at him, who completely ignored the demonic beast until it left a frightening roar. Tricking it to tear and chomp its own creators, the prince moved towards the remaining mages to make it happen while they tried to run away from two monsters, the big one and the one who was pretending to be human. Dimitri took the opportunity to pick up his lance.

Then, something scared him. He began to hear screams, men and women calling for help. Others screamed that it burned, to make the pain stop, others pleading to stop, others pleading for mercy. He didn’t know exactly where they came from and the prince despaired as some of them were screams from long ago. Dimitri looked at the beast with horror. Though their flesh were melted into one, they were still very conscious, very aware of what was happening. And every time the prince hit the beast in self-defence, the screams begged him to stop, that it hurt, while others just screamed in pain. He knew there was no other way but he had a hard time accepting it. He had to kill the beast and end the villager’s suffering. If it wasn’t for his troubled mind, he would have done it without hesitation. But even a decent mind would have difficulty finding the will to kill a monster that was screaming in agony and begging for help at the same time. If anything, it was a miracle the prince didn’t give in completely into despair with his fragile state of mind.

This made sense. When he and Sylvain assisted the Golden Deer class on their mission to stop Miklan, the bandit leader was turned into the black beast. The victim too was scared beyond those growls. The beasts that invaded the monastery had very suspicious human screams, and they turned out to be students of the academy; the beasts didn’t invade the monastery, the students were turned into one. And finally, the beasts that fought for the Empire when they declared war on the Church of Seiros. He couldn’t know who they used to make them but it didn’t matter, innocent lives were used.

When the giant beast opened its maw the prince rushed in, being swallowed whole. The only mage left was very confused. Why? He just ran to his death… until some moments later the tip of a weapon sprout out from the beast’s belly before sinking back in. Then two hands came out, opening the wound more and more until Dimitri burst out. He quickly picked up his lance and moved away from the beast, who tried to stop the blood loss by lying down on its belly. This gave the prince an easy way to stab it right at the head. The demonic beast roared again and began to squirm in pain, giving the prince no time to pull off the lance from the beast’s skull. The prince then fixed his attention on the last mage, who was terrified. His legs were shaking, to the point he fell on the ground and began to scramble away backwards as Dimitri moved towards him, completely unbothered by the screaming beast that kept bleeding to its death. He lifted the mage by his throat with a single hand. “If you answer me, I will give you a quick, painless death. Now, is the Emperor, that _woman_ , really allowing the use of innocent lives to create these beasts?”

There was no response. The man was too busy gagging instead of answering his question, assuming he paid attention. Even if the mage was wearing a mask like all others, most could tell he was drooling and his eyes were close of rolling onto his skull. Impatient and angered, Dimitri twisted one of the arms the opposite way one flexes the biceps and did the same with the other, effectively snapping them in the wrong painful way. Then he let the mage go, who began to squirm in pain on the ground. Then the prince stomped his stomach and grabbed the head with both hands, twisting his neck 180º like he did with the second soldier he killed. Dimitri coldly watched until the mage stopped moving, his life slowly leaving his body.

When Dimitri turned around, the demonic beast was on the ground, its body twitching occasionally. He walked towards it and began to pet it. Whatever they became, they were still his people. “P-please… Prince Dimitri… s-save… them…” Those were the demonic beast’s last words before turning into darkness, leaving behind the villager’s bloodied corpses. After processing of what just happened, the prince fell on his knees and slammed the ground with his fist as he screamed at the top of his lungs before falling to tears.

“Do not look at me that way… do not look down upon me with your _PITY_!” There was no one who was looking at him. One could say he was screaming at the corpses or his growing delusions. In truth, he was screaming at the Moon.

Even if most forgot the Moon, Dimitri never did. This was only known to the bloodlines of Riegan and Blaiddyd, though the knowledge was preserved in the later, therefore it was only known in Faerghus, by the royal family. Even if all of Fódlan adapted to the teachings of Seiros and her religion, these two heroes of old never forgot the Sun and the Moon.

Nowadays Time is attributed only to the Goddess, but in the past their ancestors attributed Time to the Sun and the Moon, saying, “They move through the Heaven to tell Time,” and they gave them other names as well, such as “the Whirling Wheel”, “the Hastener” and “the Shiner” for the Moon; and for the Sun, “the Everglow”, “the All-Shining”, “the Lovely Wheel” and together they were once called “the Counters of Years”, or “the Counters of Time”.

If Dimitri was screaming at the Moon as if it was a sentient being, then they clearly worshipped them as gods before they were replaced by the current Goddess of Fódlan. He thought he was being pitied and the prince resented the sentiment. He sees all acts of pity as condescending; therefore pity and arrogance are the same for the prince. And so, if people believe that gods pity the misfortunate ones, then in Dimitri’s mind the gods are as sinful as humans. A blasphemous way of thinking, something the Church of Seiros would have punished without a second thought.

With a broken laugh, he covered his right eye with his hand, “If you really mourn this night… if you really wished this never happened… just as you did in Duscur…” he began to grunt in pain as he forced his fingers in, plucking his own eye. “Then accept this offering… and grant me your sight.” He reached out his hand to the sky. His eye froze out and shattered. Its fragments turned into diamond dust and dissipated into the moon. A shining, multi-coloured halo manifested around the celestial body, accepting the prince’s offering.

This was Dimitri’s second death. His body endured again, but the same couldn't be said for his mind. Already wounded by the Tragedy of Duscur, this event reignited their strong desire for vengeance. If the ghosts wanted retribution for what was done to them back then, the Empire and Cornelia’s actions towards their citizens only fuelled their flame. And from the blood of the innocent and the guilty, a monster was born under the moonlight.

* * *

_Oh young prince, Scion of Blaiddyd,_

_We mourn your loss._

_Even in death, your body still lingers._

_Even with a shattered mind, your soul still lingers._

_Alas, he forever lost a part of himself._


	3. On his Tear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix believes the boar is dead, like most people in Fódlan. But he appears in his room in the middle of the night.  
> The boar boops his forehead. With his lips.  
> And then he cries while Felix doesn't understand what it's going on because he needs a big reality check.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, Gilbert tells the player that Dimitri has been killing imperial soldiers in ways that no one believe it could have been done by humans hands. So, I am trying to show how badly these soldiers were treated by our angy blond lord. Expect gore.
> 
> The game is full of "tell, don't show" and I am sure nearly everyone hates that aspect, the biggest offender being Hilda telling Byleth and Claude how Dimitri just recently died offscreen.

It’s been three years since Dimitri was executed. Despite his mindset, Felix had a hard time accepting the fact the man he hated was dead. Although ‘hate’ was a strong word, he just couldn’t accept him, he was confused. He couldn’t grasp how Dimitri could be at one moment a kind man and later a ruthless killer and vice versa. He hated that. He hated that façade, pretending to be a decent human being when he wasn’t.

Despite of that, he tried to understand him. It made no sense to him how after such a traumatic event he would end up being brutal towards his enemies despite being the sensitive man he is. The last thing one would want is becoming the very thing that traumatized them, right? That’s what he always thought and still he couldn’t understand him, even when they clashed swords every day. They are both warriors at heart and Felix thought he would be able to have some insight of him by doing what they do best: fighting. And yet the boar prince’s mind was unfathomable to Felix. The swordsman could only know what was going on at the moment and he was the one who anticipated his second rampage, which ended up happening at the Holy Tomb.

And just like that, he was gone. He disappeared from his life without warning like Glenn did. But after three years, hope grew in eastern Faerghus, as well somewhere in his heart. Rumours of Imperial battalions being slaughtered in the western region and sometimes in the east as well, each of them dying in such a brutal way that no one believed it could have been done by human hands, and yet their wounds and the way they died wasn’t something done by some wild demonic beasts. The way all of them were dismembered meant that someone tore them apart by brute force, not by being cut by an axe or a sword, and their flesh were not punctured, meaning that there wasn’t a tug war between two monsters. And Felix knew the only one capable of such a thing. _The boar._ He remembered how he always breaks his weapons, so being able to rip off someone’s arms, legs or even heads wasn’t a wild idea to him. The three houses saw how he effortlessly crushed a man’s skull with one hand after all. And it wasn’t even the worst of him. That soldier had a rather tame death compared to others.

Assuming it was the boar that killed those soldiers… Felix and Rodrigue didn’t even believe there was even a battle at all. Judging by the way they were killed, it had to be a straight out a massacre. Both father and son witnessed war; they already killed plenty, their hands forever stained. But still their way of killing was nowhere as savage as the way these poor souls were killed. A simple shoot of their spells and the enemy was done, a simple slash and thrust of their blade, the battle was over. But this… this _cruelty_ was beyond unnecessary. Just as the whispers said, most of them had their arms and legs ripped off. And no one wondered why the rumours stopped there, for what came next was too much even for Felix, to the point he threw up not because of the gore but out of shock of what he just saw.

There were some daggers and swords stuck on the ground by the pommels, with soldiers being stabbed and impaled through their skulls. Judging by the hands and arms, it seemed they tried to resist being shoved towards the blade, a hint his killer took his sweet time doing it. There were also some swords stuck on trees as well, with soldiers impaled through their chest or throats. Judging by the position of their hands and arms and the blood of their mouths, they tried to free themselves after they were impaled. There were also spears stuck on trees and the ground by the shaft, with even more soldiers impaled trough them. The spears on the ground had a pile of soldiers stabbed through their skulls, while some other through their chest. Those who were not impaled had their jaws ripped off to the point the flesh of their throat was exposed. The killer clearly was too strong to tear a good chunk of skin, even flesh, alongside the jaw, and if it wasn’t for the armour it could have continued all the way to the torso or even down there. Others had their heads ripped off and somehow their spine still attached to it. Others had a pair of daggers stabbing right through their eyes while their arms and fingers were twisted in impossible ways. Despite the difference on how they were killed, all of them had something in common: a terrified expression. All these soldiers died with horror in their hearts.

Compared to _this_ , the killing blows that Felix, Rodrigue and their men delivered to their enemies could be seen as a mercy, saving them from being brutally killed by whatever thing that had to potential to deliver these gruesome deaths. There was nothing else they could so to save them, they are the aggressor; they stopped a nothing from attacking and pillaging them. If there was another way, Rodrigue would have definitely taken it. Sadly his enemies didn’t give him any choice. Their enemies’ only choices are either die by human hands or by a monster’s hands.

That night after witnessing _that_ , Felix had trouble sleeping as his mind was a turbulent cloud. Some part of him wished he was alive and yet after seeing a possible heinous act of his, at the same time he wished he was dead or at least not responsible of that massacre. When he closed his eyes he envisioned the boar delivering those gruesome deaths while sporting that vile smirk. No matter how many times he tried to sleep, it repeated again and again until he was unable to wake up. That evil smile was stuck on his nightmare until everything fade to black.

A cold chill ran through his spine and he tried to move. He was unable to do so, he couldn’t even open his eyes and he began to hear strange noises he just couldn’t identify. Felix started to feel a bit scared, there was _something_ out there and he couldn’t move even his own eyelids.

After a few minutes of struggling, he finally managed to wake up. He had a hard time seeing the man that was standing next to his bed, looking at the window. It was the boar, but a shadow of what he once was. Felix’s eyes widened. What stood out the most were the light tendrils that sprout out from his shoulders and arms, which pretty much convinced him this is a dream as well. The second thing what stood up was his hair; it was long, past his shoulders and it was a mess. It was bleached out, presumably under the great stress he went through all these years. There was a faint tint of blond, he was just few shades away from being completely pale. If his tattered and ragged clothes under his equally torn cloak were any indication, he didn’t have an easy time during these years. And when he looked at him, he noticed his right eye was closed, Felix thought he lost it during a fight. The boar’s expression was… it wasn’t there at all, so to speak. Hard to read. However, thanks to his eye bags, the boar being tired or just done with life was the closest thing one could describe by looking at his face.

His mere presence felt… otherworldly, so there was no doubt this was a dream. However, one dreams of things they already know or already have seen and the swordsman never met this person, he was _assuming_ this is the boar. Even still, he wanted to reach him, but he couldn’t. He didn’t know what to feel at the moment, anger, relief, happiness… but the first thing he wanted to do was to see if all of this was real to begin with, he needed to feel him. It was a simple task, he was so close and yet so far away, unable to move at all. He barely managed to move his head to look at him, muscles of his neck tingling. Almost as if read his mind, the boar bent down, gently moving away a few hair strands from Felix's face before bringing his lips to his forehead. It was not a lingering kiss, but the swordsman could feel a strong affection poured in it despite being cold as the grave. The coldness made his headache fade away, an irritation Felix didn’t know he had until recently and his mind was no longer troubled.

When the boar moved away from Felix, his expression changed to a faint sign of sadness, his only shining blue eye becoming a bit glassy, almost at the verge of tears. He then began to walk away. However, the swordsman didn’t want him to leave. Not yet. No matter how real the kiss felt, it was the boar who touched him, not the other way. He cursed his own body for not obeying his command. He never felt so… oppressed before, oppressed and caged by his own body. He helplessly watched how the boar left his room, not even bothering using the door, just walking through it. It was then Felix thought this had to be a dream for what he saw was literally impossible, and yet his presence felt very real. After a few minutes of struggling he managed to move, or rather, falling from his bed. He never felt so weak, unable to even being able to stand on his own. So he had to use his own bed to support himself and then the walls, slowly walking towards the door. After opening it, he fell to the floor unconscious and woke up in his bed again. Felix didn’t understand what was happening, but he kept trying to get to him despite not knowing where he could have gone. Each time he reached to door he managed to advance a few steps further than before, only for him to fall falling unconscious and waking up in his bed again. He did this several times until he woke up and saw the boar again in his room, standing next to the bed, looking at the window. Looking at Felix, he kissed his forehead again. And when he moved away from him, he said with a deep and yet soft voice, “Felix, I calmed your mind so you can have a peaceful slumber. Not to stress yourself again.”

Then, the boar lowered his head and placed his hand in front of his face. Felix saw a several tears falling to his hand. Even if he was crying, letting his own tears pouring down, he did not whimper at all. Then he proceeded to do something with his pointing finger, as if he was writing something on his hand. Finally, he grabbed one of Felix’s hands and placed something in it before closing it into a fist. The boar began to leave the room again, but this time Felix didn’t try to pursue him. He was just too confused on what was happening. At some point he couldn’t know if he was dreaming or not. Impossible things were happening but everything felt so real. He knew it was a fruitless endeavour trying to pursue the boar. And unable to move, he decided to sleep.

When Felix woke up he made extra sure he was awake. It didn’t take too long to figure it out as he had no trouble to move at all, his body was no longer weak and finally answering his commands to perfection. He wondered what happened that night. It was the weirdest experience he ever had, he didn’t even know if he could call it a dream, for he couldn’t even tell dream from reality at some point. He tried to forget about it a start his routine, until he felt something in his left hand. The boar left something after shedding some tears. And when he opened his hand there was a tear-shaped blue stone.

Felix was never interested in gem stones and anything related to it, so his knowledge was close of being non-existent. But everyone in Faerghus knew what this stone is, for it was incredibly valued to the point of being a national treasure: the Azure Lazulite, commonly known as Lapis Lazuli. The swordsman didn’t wonder why it was especially valued in Faerghus. Not only the banner matches its colour, but it is said is beneficial to the throat, larynx, and vocal cords and given the cold temperature of Farghus, it made sense that people would seek it. It is also said that it provides the relief of things that may have been suppressed and allows for them to surface, helping to diminish disease or repressed anger. Felix, however, thought this was stupid and it made no sense at all. Small chunks of blue rock that helps your throat and gives relief of feeling that have been long suppressed? Utterly ridiculous if you ask him.

However there was something Felix didn’t know about the lapis lazuli. There was a deeper meaning, only known to the royal bloodline, only for those who believe such a thing. It goes back when Blaiddyd was still alive. While nowadays it is said lapis lazuli means “Blue stone”, the hero of old once called the azure lazulite the “Stone of the Heaven,” and saw it as a connection to divinity. In his own words, “The Stone of the Heaven has Timeless associations with the Divine,” and he believed it “contains the soul of a Divine being, who would rejoice in its owner.” If Felix heard those words and beliefs he would dismiss them as even more nonsense, –and some would laugh a Blaiddyd– cheap and crap excuses for people to value a small chunk of coloured rock, and probably kill the other just to get their hands on that.

Felix had no reasons to keep the blue stone, for he found it uninteresting. However it was a proof the boar was here. A proof the bizarre sequence trying to chase him happened for real. If it wasn’t for this dammed stone he could have ignored everything that happened and throw it away. But it was in his hand, very real and very tangible. He couldn’t ignore it, so he decided to keep it for now.

* * *

_The outline of a faraway dream intertwines with reality,_

_Because it vividly exists right here._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What Felix experienced is something called "False Awakening" (not related to FE Awakening btw), sometimes associated or related to "double dreams" or "dream within a dream", and there are 2 types of false awakening. To put it in few words, false awakening is when the dreamer is having a convincing dream of waking up and starting their daily routine, only to wake up in their bed again and start over. This sequence can repeat itself more than once. I don't know how many times but from personal experience, more than three times for sure.
> 
> Type 1 of False Awakening is when the dreamer seems to wake up but not in realistic surroundings, usually not in their bedroom. So, the person can be aware they are still dreaming, which depends how familiar they are with lucid dreaming.
> 
> Type 2 is more tricky and it is said is uncommon, but not exactly rare, and is something that I personally experienced weeks ago. The surroundings of the dreamer is more realistic. Sometimes it can be accompanied with sleep paralysis and a small episode of psychosis, mainly hallucinations and delusions.
> 
> In my case... well, I had all of these (what I believe anyways, I could be wrong). While dreaming I tried to get out of my bed but my limbs were tingling (you know, what Felix experienced). Still, I managed to get out of my bed but with difficult and tried to start my daily routine regardless (unlike Felix who tried to chase Dimitri).  
> After 'waking up', trying to start my day, 'falling unconscious' and waking up in my bed like three times, I could no longer distinguish what was real and was a dream, and then I stopped doing my things because my head was tingling. I felt sleepy but I refused to sleep because for some reason I strongly believed if I fell to sleep (in my dream no less) I was going to die.
> 
> I don't even remember when I properly woke up but the first thing I did was to search in google what the fuck I just experienced.
> 
> When it happened, I was confused at first and then scared. Nowdays when I think of it, it was awesome in its own way.


	4. Wind of Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even with the current state of Fódlan, Claude has the urge to return to the monastery.  
> What he finds is something spooky.

Claude would have left Fódlan on Edelgard’s hands, but after seeing her methods and her involvement of what happened during the academy days, it was out of the question. As the Flame Emperor she did not hide the fact she worked with Solon and his group, and the Death Knight being her subordinate. If she ordered his knight to kidnap Flayn so Solon could use her blood to experiment on the people of Remire, then she was more complicit than she wanted to admit and the one who allowed it to happen. Monica, or Kronya, one of Solon’s allies, was involved with the students being turned into beasts and personally murdered Jeralt. If it was Edelgard’s intention to get rid of one of the strongest knight so the Church had one less powerful member, Claude did not know. And the desecration of the Holy Tomb she personally led… no matter her reasons, grave robbing was very wrong in the eyes of many, including Claude’s. Although she had information about the crest stones she managed to steal, to ask her about them was pointless. She would never share that information to someone like Claude anyways. And just like the Church and himself, Edelgard keeps a lot of secrets for herself as well. Though he did not like it one bit, he couldn’t blame her either. He knew she had her reasons to do so. Even if they were very good ones, he had a hard time to give a pass on what she did and what she is currently doing. At some point he thought he was crazy enough to give a pass on Dimitri’s rampage at the Holy Tomb. It wasn’t a matter if he was going to lose it, it was a matter of _when_.

However, he was gone. Way too fast for Claude’s liking. As soon as the Empire declared war on Faerghus and the Alliance, Dimitri is conveniently executed for murdering his own uncle because of some rumour of his involvement with the Tragedy of Duscur. A bit too fishy for the Leader, especially when the Empire immediately occupied western Faerghus as soon as Cornelia took control over House Blaiddyd. Almost as if it was orchestrated long ago. Heck, even if it didn’t make sense to Claude to think Edelgard is the one –allegedly– responsible for the Tragedy of Duscur that weakened the Kingdom so it was easier to invade it, in other ways it made sense if the Emperor decided to conquer Fódlan after the Church fell. To say Edelgard herself is responsible is crazy as the tragedy happened nine years ago, she was still a child, there is no way she was the mastermind. However, it is safe to assume that at least someone within the Empire is or was behind it, such as her father to ensure she would occupy the Kingdom when the time was right.

Now that Adrestia occupied half of the Old Kingdom, thing went from bad to worse when they advanced on Alliance territory and House Gloucester immediately surrenders to them. Claude didn’t blame the Count, he knew he did to avoid losing the lives of his people. He would have done the same if weren’t for the things the Emperor did and is currently doing, so he remained opposed.

The sole reason why the opposing factions of the Empire managed to keep their hold on their territories was because of the Heroes’ Relics. Though House Dominic sided with Cornelia, Baron Dominic and Gilbert bore no Crest and Anette wasn’t keen on fighting the eastern lords. Even if she decided to fight them, the power of Crusher alone wouldn’t be enough to face the Relics of houses Gautier, Fraldarius, Galatea and Charon, even though its bearer is currently with the Knights of Seiros. The Empire did not have such a thing, until the Emperor was seen wielding a weapon on similar vein as the Heroes’ Relics. It is known that House Hraesvelrg had no Relic, unless they have kept it hidden for generations. However, the Edelgard knew very well despite her might, facing all the wielders at once was a death sentence and avoided direct confrontation against the eastern lords. So instead, she focused on Leicester, who only had Failnaught and Freikugel. If she managed to take complete control over the Alliance, the remnants of the Old Kingdom would be completely surrounded. Even still, trying to take north of Leicester has proven to be as difficult as eastern Faerghus and the war reached a stagnant point. It was a matter on which side would run out of supplies or numbers and given the territory control of the Empire, Adestria’s victory was almost guaranteed unless Claude was willing to take some drastic measures and call for Almyra.

He almost forgot it was the millennium festival though. But with the monastery in ruins, Byleth presumably dead, and the continent’s current situation, Claude did not expect anyone to show up there. However, almost as if the cold north wind whispered him, the Alliance Leader had the urge to return. He didn’t know why he was doing this. And if he didn’t know, it had to be fate. Although he doesn’t exactly believe in the Goddess of Fódlan, he did believe in divinity and sometimes in their works. Claude believes that humans should take matters in their own hands, but when things are beyond them, gods should give a helping hand. That is what happened when Byleth was sent into the darkness by Solon, the Goddess appeared before him and granted him her powers to escape. Because of that, Claude started to believe in this land's deity a little bit.

Leaving the Alliance temporally on his retainer and Judith’s hands, Claude climbed onto his wyvern and soared through the skies, towards Garreg Mach. He decided to venture at night, in case someone decided to make their home somewhere in there they would be sleeping. And to his surprise, the Empire didn’t occupy it and instead it became a thieves’ hideout. However, all of them seemed to avoid the Goddess’s Tower, how fitting. When he flew closer he could see why. There was a trail of fresh corpses, broken weapons and blood and viscera spilled all over the bridge. Ravens were already feasting on the remains, some of them even doing tug war with livers, and they flew away when the wyvern descended. When Claude had a closer look, things were worse than it appeared from far away. All these soldiers were unrecognizable, their faces smashed by something to the point it disfigured them or their faces just rip off somehow.

The big lizard growled and bared its teeth, refusing to advance further. Whatever killed these poor soldiers, it was still in the tower. If his wyvern of all animals was scared, then Claude knew something really dangerous was in there. These flying lizards are almost close to the pinnacle of the food chain and nothing scares them… except the demonic beasts. However, the wyverns of Fódlan got used to them and learned to avoid them, though sometimes they were capable of killing them if they worked in group. A lizard from a foreign land would have a hard time surviving in these lands.

At first Claude was a bit hesitant to go into the tower, but he readied his bow and with shaking hands, he walked in. For a moment he thought this was the sequence of a nightmare. As he began to go upstairs, more faceless and mangled imperial corpses began to decorate the trail. He murmured to himself, “Why would someone kill this awful way?”

Bloodied handprints on the walls, and the stairs were completely covered by blood, _fresh_ blood. Claude was speechless; he stopped for a moment to take a deep breath and calm himself to avoid throwing up. The last thing he wanted to do is to lose it and alert the murderer or whatever beast that did this. After a few moments, he pressed on. He began to slow down as he was getting close to the top and then he stopped. He heard voices. “A-aren’t you overdoing it?” One of them said.

“Of course I’m not!” The other said, panting. “Have you seen how this… this… this _monster_ killed our friends?! He deserves this! No… He deserves worse than this! Not even the Eternal Flames is enough for this… this… _demon_!”

When Claude peeked out, there was a pair of Imperial soldiers standing of front of a body, a pale-haired man, pierced by several spears and swords through his entire body right in the middle of the room.

The scenery was gruesome. Like the stairs, the floor was completely covered in fresh blood; they were surrounded by even more corpses. The body pierced by weapons was lying prone, almost being completely covered by a bloodied blue cape, while the upper part being covered by black and white fur. Right there in the centre, illuminated by the moonlight… the entire situation almost seemed a sacrificial ritual to some lunar deity.

Claude didn’t know what happened, but those soldiers were his enemies. So he took his bow and with one silent shoot, he fired an arrow right at one of the imperial’s head and hide again, preparing another arrow. He heard the remaining soldier panicking. Claude felt bad for doing this, but it had to be done. Compared to what his fallen comrades suffered, this wasn’t a bad end for him. He fired again, leaving no witnesses.

After taking another deep breath, Claude stepped in the room, moving the corpses off from the pierced one. If what he heard was right, this man was the one who did this, the one who nearly killed all of these men. He just couldn’t believe it; he could hardly imagine a mere man killing in such a brutal way. He didn’t know what to think about the situation and began to examine the corpse. After taking a good look on the bloodied cape, it had the banner of Faerghus, someone from the eastern lands given he targeted the Empire. And when he took a look on the face, he didn’t receive the same treatment he gave to his enemies. Either his enemies didn’t want to fall on his same level of savagery or they wanted to people to recognize very well this monster. Aside from that, the man looked that he really had a hard time trying to sleep before he was put down if his eye bags were any indication. If anything, his expression indicated he did not die in pain. He almost looked as if he was sleeping instead of being dead.

The Empire was his enemy but even Claude felt bad about those faceless soldiers that were brutally killed by this man. There were rumours in the Alliance of a killer in Faerghus who specifically targeted imperial soldiers and occasionally the Dukedom. He found it hard to believe this killer was a one-man army and although these soldiers seemed to be a scouting group given the small number, it seemed they managed to end his life because eventually he fell exhausted thanks to his sleep deprivation and even then, he went down taking almost all of them. Not even Claude imaged what this man was capable of at his peak, and he did not want to know. While he was thinking what how things would have turned out if this man was alive and on his side, Claude didn’t noticed there were ravens already on top of the body. To the Leader’s surprise, they weren’t trying to eat him but instead, they were desperately trying to pull out the weapons. He tried to shoo them away, but the birds pecked his hand. After a few moments, the dead man’s left eyelid suddenly opened, revealing a shining, blue eye. Claude startled –startling the ravens as well– and fell on his butt and scrambled a few feets away. Now his clothes and his butt were stained in blood.

This was impossible. There was no way this man should be alive. His body was pierced by several spears and swords, one of them specifically piercing his throat and his heart. Claude didn’t know if this man was a zombie or not, but his pale skin and his pale hair pretty much made him look very dead, his flesh not rotting for now as he seemed to have been killed recently. The Leader read stories of the undead, but they were just that, made up stories to scare the living and encourage them to never disturb the dead. Not something real. He glared at Claude with his single eye and bared his teeth, ice fumes leaving his mouth. He tried to get up, but with so many weapons piercing his body he was unable to do so, the only thing he was achieving was losing even more blood from every wound and from his mouth. He stopped, but he kept staring at the Alliance Leader.

“H-hey there, mister zombie! If you promise me you won’t eat my brain, I will remove those weapons. That looks very painful, so I wanted to help a bit.” Claude’s voice was shaking a little bit and he didn’t know why he said it in the first place. His words left his mouth before his brain could process what he was actually saying. This man was the one who killed all these soldiers in a brutal way and was punished for it. He didn’t have many reasons to help him –the reason to help him being that they have a common enemy– and more to fear and be wary of him. Claude even pinched himself to make extra sure he wasn’t dreaming. Yes, it hurt, and he even let out a small ‘ouch’.

After hearing those words, the man seemed to calm down, but still he was very distrustful, still frowning. The Alliance Leader already said he was going to help him, so he had to do it. Standing up to his feet, he slowly walked towards the pale-haired man. He didn't even know why he treated him like he was a distressed and trapped wild beast that required slow moves to avoid startling it. Claude decided to get rid of the sword that was piercing the throat first. “This will sting a little but you will have to endure it, ok? Here we go.”

It was harder than it looked and took a bit longer than he expected as the weapon was too deep, almost buried to the hilt. This meant the weapon was also piercing the ground, that's how deep it was. The same was for the other weapons. It took several minutes and it was impossible for Claude to be gentle while using all of his strength to remove them. Once the task was done, he fell on the ground exhausted, no longer caring about the bloodied floor. The man tried to get up, uncaring of the several holes all over his body. His arms and legs began to shake before falling on the ground, blood splashing around him. Claude sighed. “Man, I just took the weapons off of you and you immediately try to get up? You should stay still for a moment.”

The man did not answer, of course he didn’t. A sword just pierced his throat; he was just incapable of speech. He just stared at him half lidded; clearly he wanted to sleep but Claude’s presence was making him nervous. It was the same the other way. “Umm… if you want to take a nap go ahead. You are safe with me.”

After saying that, the man slowly closed his only eye –he even hesitated several times, his eyelid occasionally twitching: a sign of stress and fatigue– even though he was still frowning. They both stayed still for a couple minutes, with Claude taking the opportunity to rest. Strength wasn’t his forte and that task took him more energy than he expected, and he didn’t exactly planned for this either. Thankfully it was worth it… for now. The man didn’t kill him nor did it seem he wanted to do it any time soon.

As much as he wanted to relax for a bit longer, some ravens decided to land on the man’s fur while others began to peck the nearby corpses. Claude tried to scare them away, at least the ones that were on the pale-haired man. He wasn’t dead yet, although it was a bit hard to say if he was alive, a zombie, or whatever. The thing is that he was not food for the birds and disturbing his sleep seemed to be a terrible idea. However, the ravens pecked his hand, unwilling to leave his side. “Hey, you still here, aren’t you?” Claude asked.

The man slightly opened his eye, as if saying ‘I’m still here’, unbothered by the birds chilling on his fur cloak. Then, he tried to stand up again only to fall on the ground a second time, scaring the animals away.

“Slow down, will ya? I didn’t mean you to get up by that question,” Claude moved towards him and tried to heal him with his spell but the man weakly slapped his hand, refusing his help. At first he was a bit confused why he would do that, but he wasn’t going have any of his shit and healed him despite his protests. He used all his magical reserves. It wasn’t exactly amazing compared Lorenz, Lysithea or Marianne. Aside from that, Claude mostly used his healing spells to make first aids; it was never intended to heal fatal wounds. But he hoped at least he could save someone from dying if he used all the magical energies he had. This man, however, was out of the question. Death didn’t seem to be an option for him. His black armour and his cloak made it hard to know how fatal his wounds where, but given he was impaled though his entire body anyone could tell they were awful. Claude didn’t even know how much did he help, but it was enough for the man to be able to stand up, albeit _barely_. He had to use a nearby lance to help himself. And even still, he was struggling to stay on his feet, shaking, even. Just staying on his feet appeared to be painful for him and it felt he could collapse any time soon despite the support he had with his weapon.

Claude isn't exactly a tall guy, he considers himself to be of average height. And he had seen guys bigger than himself, such as his retainer Nader and Raphael. They look intimidating but at the core, they are kind-hearted and easy to get along with. But this man was a different story, especially the context surrounding him. And luckily for Claude, the man was from eastern Faerghus as he opposed the Empire, so they had a common enemy. If this was what fate had planned for him, then the Leader was a bit… conflicted. Sure, they _could_ work together to take down the Empire. After all this man was pretty much immortal for what he just saw, he had to potential to be his strongest asset. The only thing that stopped him were getting wounded or being stopped by different means, such as being rendering immovable like the soldiers did recently, or by cutting his limbs, in other words, chopping him to multiple pieces. He wouldn’t die, but he wasn’t going to be any help if his body was torn apart or being stuck in one place.

The pale-haired man suddenly turned his head, his eyes fixed on the stairs. Claude did not need to guess why as he began to hear footsteps: someone was coming and he readied his bow. As a familiar figure climbed the stairs and the bowman lowered his weapon and looked a bit surprised. He thought he died when the Empire invaded Garreg Mach and yet here he was, alive and well. Claude welcomed Byleth with a smile, “It’s been a long time, Teach. Many of us thought you perished during the siege five years ago.”

As always, Byleth answered with a faint smile and a small nod before looking at the other man. His expression changed to a saddened one –the second time since Jeralt’s death– and asked with an equally saddened tone, “Dimitri?”

“Wait, WHAT?” Claude looked at the pale-haired man with a gaping mouth. As much as he wanted it to be true, this had to be a joke. This man did _not_ resemble Dimitri at all –the only recognizable trait was his single blue eye, which was still shining– not to mention he was executed five years ago. Although to be fair, he thought Byleth died in the siege of Garreg Mach and here he was, alive as if nothing special happened; and the context surrounding Dimitri’s execution was rather fishy, in some crazy ways it made sense that he was alive as well. Even still, several weapons pierced his entire body, many on them on vital organs, Dimitri should be _very_ dead. Apparently both of them had a problem with dying. One could say they both had an argument with Death at its door and now it won’t let them pass.

Without saying anything else, Byleth tried to heal Dimitri but as he did with Claude before, he refused and this time he had the strength to do so and began to walk away from them. As he did, Byleth and Claude looked at the other a bit confused, but they followed him until they left the Goddess’s Tower. They stopped Dimitri in the middle of the bridge. “Where you think you are going with those wounds? There is a lot we have to talk about.”

Dimitri stared at them. Being unable to talk, Claude and Byleth had a hard time trying to guess what was going on in his mind. Even if he was able to talk, they still would have a hard time nonetheless. The Leader had a small one and given how reckless he turned out to be, he probably wanted to target more imperial forces. He couldn’t afford that, not with those conditions. “I know you have your reasons to fight the Empire. We all do.” As soon as he said that, Dimitri’s glare intensified and let out a broken growl alongside some ice fumes. Although it scared him a little bit, he continued, “But you are not alone in this. I know the context that surrounded your supposed execution, but I hardly believe it. It will be hard to clean your name but we need you safe and sound, alright?”

Byleth had no idea what Claude was talking about as he spent 5 years sleeping, frozen in Time, being in coma, whatever what happened to him. Heck, even he didn’t know what happened after he fell. Of course, he was filled with information about the current state of Fódlan.

Dimitri knew very well that Claude had plans to retake Faerghus so they could take down Adrestia together, but he had no plans on taking the throne. He was aware what he became. A monster driven by vengeance and hatred was unfit to rule. While his mind was a giant mess, he was not stupid; his people welcoming him with open arms after seeing the monster he became is not a possibility to him and he would delude himself if he thought there was even a small chance of happening. Besides, he had more pressing matters...

To start their counterattack, they agreed they had to take Garreg Mach and to do so they first had to clean the place from thieves that made their settlement. Dimitri didn’t care too much; he just wanted to kill them all because they were thieves. They inflict pain and misery on the weak by stealing and sometimes, killing them in the process. They commit something he cannot accept, they must die. He didn’t even cared trying to understand their situation. And he wasn’t above them, just became he deems them as evil doesn’t mean he sees himself as the pinnacle of goodness, very much the contrary. Byleth and Claude were lucky that Dimitri couldn’t talk at the moment otherwise there could have been an argument about their own morality. “We need you to control yourself in the coming battle, ok big man? We are going to clean up the place, not to deliver fear in our enemies’ hearts.”

Dimitri looked at Claude with an unwavering gaze, his expression always frowning. He let out an annoyed small growl. Whenever it meant that he bitterly accepted or he was not going to have any of their shit, no one knew. Regardless, Claude and Byleth knew the upcoming battle was going to be ugly to the point they worried more about Dimitri rather than his enemies. The thieves were _screwed_ , that was a given. Keeping the madman in check seemed to be the real problem.

* * *

_With loneliness, sadness and regret in his shattered, frozen heart,_

_He waited for a long time, but it was all for naught._

_When he started wondering when he would stop caring about them,_

_There was now a new ghost to remind him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is Dimitri a zombie? Or is he dead or alive? The answer is no.


	5. Moon Demon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claude and Byleth learn that Dimitri not only greatly changed physically during these five years. He became something else. No one knows what he exactly is -only a deity may know-, but thanks to some wild rumours originated in the old Kingdom, he is now considered a demon.
> 
> And as much as Claude doesn't approve his method of killing, he quickly learns the Empire isn't any better than his new ally.
> 
> ...At least his new ally has a fluff cloak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is more gore here, my dudes. Tread carefully.

The sun still didn’t rise when they finished cleaning the place, but it was about time. Claude noticed Dimitri being a bit too hasty in his killing despite his wounds; he prioritized how fast they had to die instead of how. He also noticed how aware he was of the overall battlefield despite missing an eye. At some points he moved on direction were there was an enemy, an enemy that not even Claude and his wyvern managed to spot. And something so unreal happened to the point he literally had to stop to pinch himself to make extra sure what he saw wasn’t made up… Dimitri shifting from one place to another in a blink of an eye. Judging by the thieves’ reactions, he wasn’t seeing things. What happened was as real as it could get.

As for Byleth, from his point of view, things were a bit more… bizarre. He always took for granted he was the only one aware of the use of Divine Pulse other than Sothis, who surrendered her individuality to Byleth. Whatever happened to Dimitri in these five years, not only he seemed to be aware of it, he was also unaffected, being able to move freely through frozen Time and kill at his content. This explains why from the others’ point of view the prince just shifted from one place to another. This is why they finished cleaning the monastery from thieves faster than they expected, even before the former students of the Golden Deer showed up to Claude’s surprise, given the continent’s grim situation.

The reunion at first was rather awkward with Dimitri in it and he knew very well he was out of place –bloodied as hell and from the wrong house–, so he was rather quick to leave them. At first Claude thought he was going to leave the monastery as he seemed to be more interested in killing rather than joining forces and make him wait for the next battle. To his surprise, he returned to the Goddess’s Tower and stayed there.

Once the Knights of Seiros heard the return of Byleth they were rather quick to return and together alongside the former Golden Deer students they made the monastery more habitable… except for the Goddess’s Tower. Although the knights and the clergy insisted that it had to be clean, almost all of them didn’t have the guts to get in there when a monster was lurking in there. The very thought made them upset, they thought it was a blasphemy on the highest levels. Filled with blood and corpses of the followers of the one who have sworn to destroy the Church, and the fallen prince of the former _Holy_ Kingdom, the one who turned out to be the Moon _Demon_ , currently resided in it? Things couldn’t get worse for them.

“Moon Demon”… it was a term that reached the Alliance’s ears last year. Everyone thought it was a merely urban legend the old Kingdom created to scare the Dukedom and the Empire. They found it hard to believe a single man could decimate an entire battalion and killing them in gruesome ways to boot. To add more disbelief but also the reason why that name, the Moon Demon only attacked at night when the moon was gazing upon the land; daytime and cloudy and rainy nights were safe for everyone in the Dukedom. It really sounded like some legend of old to scare people.

…However, Dimitri did sacrifice an eye to the moon, to the deity he presumably believes or worships, in order to get sight of the night. In a sense he was somewhat omniscient during the night as long as the moon shines upon the night sky and the prince is conscious. The moments where his sight normal is during daytime or cloudy nights, and the sole reason why some people managed to escape him was because the sun was rising, ending his nocturnal omniscience or sudden change of weather during the night. Because of that, people began to fear the moon and its light that bathed the land, betraying their location to the one they nicknamed “Moon Demon” or the “One-eyed Demon”. And because of the moon’s association with wolves and Dimitri’s fur, the “Demonic Lone Wolf of Faerghus” was one of the last names they came up with.

From a certain point of view, calling Dimitri a demon is a bit odd, other than him being too savage by human’s standards. He wasn’t against the Church and considering Edelgard’s current image, wearing red and a pair of horns and wanting to get rid of the religion, she was the one closer to a demon than Dimitri; especially when she seems to be alright with the sacrifice of people in order to turn them into monsters, into _demonic_ beasts. At least in the eyes of the believers the Emperor certainly is; Edelgard’s followers, who see her as the one who would free them from the Church’s tyranny, would deny this claim or at least see the Devil as a good thing instead of something evil just to spite the believers.

Like the people of the Alliance, Claude didn’t believe those rumours of the “Moon Demon” until he saw it for himself in the last battle. Dimitri really had an incredible awareness, knowing the exact location of their enemies. It was something a man missing an eye should not be capable of, his sight or awareness should below the average human, but in his case it wasn’t. When Dimitri began to rush things before sunrise, it made things more evident: the rumour about him attacking almost at night as long as the moon is shining in the night sky was not a rumour but a fact. Even still, Claude had a hard time believing the things he just saw; at this point considering Dimitri as human, let alone a mortal, was out of the question. He endured things that could kill any living being and his particular ability was just beyond everyone else, something straight out of a myth or legend. The only one who seemed to be around the same level was Byleth, and Claude only speculated because he didn’t see much of him other than piercing the sky, which was pretty much an impossible feat like shifting from one place to another.

Even if some people still didn’t believe those rumours –as they didn’t see it with their own eyes yet–, they still feared the fallen prince, and they dared not approach the Goddess’s Tower. However, they had to clean the place and that task fell upon Claude, Seteth and Byleth. First they removed the bloody mess and when they reached the top, Dimitri was sitting in a dark corner with his head hanging down, with some ravens chilling on his fur. Worried, Byleth went to him and asked if he was alright. There was no response, but he was breathing. He was just one big, heavy sleeper. And given he seemed he had hard times trying to sleep anywhere because of his current situation –hated or/and feared by nearly everyone– the fact the decided to stay in the monastery to sleep, leaving him at his most vulnerable, was a sign that he at least trusted them to some degree. Or he felt there was less danger in there, being around with people who didn’t attacked him at first sight. Saying there are safe places is a rather subjective term. In the prince’s mind there is no safe place for him, all of them are dangerous, just some of them are less dangerous than others and the Goddess’s Tower is one of them. For Dimitri, danger comes from all places and delivered by anyone. His mental state deteriorated to the point of being very paranoic: he sees nearly all people as a threat, even former companions, until at least they prove themselves otherwise.

Even if waking up Dimitri seemed to be an impossible task, they were still quiet while cleaning the place and even they took the opportunity to finish healing his wounds. Heck, they somehow managed to take away his cloak and his fur despite the ravens protesting, in order to wash them. That is just how of a heavy sleeper Dimitri was. The man looked smaller without them, but still it didn’t take away the image of him overpowering nearly everything thrown at him with his bare hands.

Once clean and dry, the first thing Claude did was to literally bury his face on the fur while hugging it… in secret. It was stupidly soft and even wore it for a small time. It was warm, fit for cold places like Faerghus. As much as he wanted to keep it a bit longer –he couldn’t resist the fluff–, he returned it to its owner, who didn’t move a finger. “Removing weapons from you, fighting thieves, cleaning the monastery and washing your cloaks… man, I really worked out today. And seeing you sleeping like a big, hibernating bear is getting me sleepy as well. You will take care of him for me, right little guys?” To Claude’s surprise, the ravens cawed at him, as if answering his question. Sometimes he forgets how intelligent these creatures are and somewhat satisfied with that, Claude left the tower smiling and decided to take a well-earned rest.

Dimitri slept longer than intended. It was past midnight and everyone was already sleeping. Despite sleeping the whole day, he couldn’t get any rest. He was constantly tormented by his visions both in the dream and in the waking, there was no moment where his mind could truly take a break and he was still very tired and sleepy. There was never an intermediate point between having a restless prolonged sleep and not sleeping at all. At the end of the day, it made no difference to him.

Standing of his feet regardless of his weary body, he snarled when he found out they finished healing his wounds. Good people helping a monster? He couldn’t accept that, he couldn’t grasp that reasoning. In his own mindset, they had absolute no reasons to help someone evil like himself, so it was a complete wasted effort. Why even bother? He allowed it this time because he lowered his guard, but he won’t allow a second time. He left the monastery to hunt more imperials and the ravens followed him. They knew a feast was coming.

He knew he was being followed by Claude, and the Alliance leader knew Dimitri knew he knew, so neither of them bothered talking the other and the pale-haired man allowed him to follow. Perhaps he could give him a taste of his cruelty now that he was completely healed, so he could make him change his mind and leave him alone. And luckily for him, there were a battalion accompanied with some mages and monsters approaching a village nearby the monastery. At first Dimitri wondered why they would do that as he assumed they became aware to some degree of the extent of his nightly perception. Then he realized his sight began to fade slowly. Clouds began to gather and the winds began to howl, rendering his perception that of a normal human who was missing an eye. Claude knew and perhaps it was the exact reason why he decided to follow him, and he also knew he was onto something reckless, so he couldn’t leave the prince alone.

Dimitri despaired. The moon could no longer grant its sight. He made haste to reach the village and so did Claude. The Leader was surprised how fast the man was, even when wearing heavy armour. Claude himself was light on his feet and very hard to catch, and he wondered how fast Dimitri truly was if he wasn’t wearing armour. Although to the madman’s credit, he knew what was coming and adrenaline hit him, improvising his physical capabilities, whereas Claude didn’t have any reason to panic.

His speed just caught him off guard but once he got used to it, the Leader was able to quickly catch up to him without taking a sweat. In fact, he somewhat enjoyed the run. Other than running for his life as a kid, it’s been a very long time since Claude ran so fast that made his heart soar. But he was soon brought back to earth by a flying head that hit his, letting a small ‘ouch’, some blood staining his face. It was foolish of him to let his memories overflow his mind by a simple action such as running; he wasn’t even aware they were already in the village.

He now saw what Dimitri was capable of: a mere slash of his clawed gauntlets at his opponents’ throats was enough to decapitate them, or rip off their faces, or tear through their armour and take a chunk of their torso and send their guts flying across the battlefield, or take a chunk of their heads and send their brains flying across the battlefield. He did it so flippantly he wasn’t even trying; calling him a monster or anything supernatural was closer to a fact than a way to dehumanize him. He grabbed a man’s head and sank both his thumbs deep into the eyepockets, probably breaking through the skull and stabbing the brain; both eyes were stuck on his thumbs when he pulled them out and he quickly threw them away. He took his enemies’ weapons and planted it on the ground and began to grab them by their necks in order to impale them through their skull, piling them one by one. Occasionally he used his fingers to dig into their mouths and force them wide open, tearing off their jaws alongside some skin on their necks. He grabbed their swords and stabbed them through their throats, the tip of the blade coming out from the top of their heads. Or he stabbed them at the back of their heads and the tip coming out of their mouth.

Claude now began to believe those wild rumours of the Moon Demon decimating entire battalions by himself in _awful_ ways. Dimitri is the only reinforcement an army needs and so, the Leader left the killing part to the monster, sparing himself from witnessing the slaughtering. He decided to get the villagers to safety. An easy task until they were intercepted by some armoured demonic beasts, imperial mages with fragments of crests stones in their hands and a handful of soldiers. Claude whistled, calling his loyal wyvern. The flying reptile came down diving towards a demonic beast, trying to break the armour. Of course, the creature had to maneuverer quite often to avoid getting caught by the others, so it constantly changed targets. The wyvern also served as a distraction for Claude, who already had trouble fighting the mages on his own while the soldiers tried to seize the villagers, separating women and children from the others.

To his surprise, the ravens assisted him by pecking their heads, annoying them and distracting them. They even snatched away their crests stone fragments from their hands, and after landing on thick branches they pecked them to dust, foiling their plans. Angry, the mages began to use their spells on the birds, who dodged them with ease. Taking advantage, Claude began to take them down but still it wasn’t his only job here. If cleaning the place was the only thing he had to do, then it was an easy task for him. However, he couldn’t do that and keep the villagers safe at the same time. After all, even numbers can overwhelm the best fighters… by Fódlan standards anyways. And luckily for Claude, Dimitri was not the above average fighter, he was on a whole different level. He was rather quick finishing his part and reaching them. First he decimated the soldiers who were trying to take away the women and children and then he focused the demonic beasts, breaking their armour with a single punch and allowing the ravens and the wyvern to gouge their eyes, leaving them completely blind. It didn’t take long for them to finish what remained, and eagerly, the birds began to eat at their content. Claude and the villagers looked how the demonic beasts turned into darkness, leaving only corpses behind.

“I always tried to deny this but now that I have seen them trying with my own eyes…” Claude fought several demonic beasts when House Gloucester and those who supported the Empire attacked those who were against their dominion. He heard several times how these beasts begged for help with faintly human noises, he saw several times how they faded to darkness, only to leave dead people behind. It wasn’t a surprise for him as Miklan was his first experience after all. But it greatly demoralized his troops, unwilling or terrified to fight a monster that screamed and begged for help like a human would. Most of the time Claude and some strong willed fighters were the ones who had to deal with them. Even Hilda, a very capable fighter and strong enough to take them on her own with Freikugel, was unwilling to kill a monster who begged for help.

Now Claude understood why Rhea wanted to keep it as secret, why she was safeguarding the crests stones in the Holy Tomb and why she was enraged when they were stolen. It wasn’t meant for the people to lose their trust in their nobles and their legendary weapons with their special crest stones. It was to avoid people using them for warfare. But… why would the Goddess create such a thing? Why create something that could turn someone into a monster? These questions came to Claude’s mind despite being mostly a non-believer. ‘Mostly’ because he saw how Byleth cut down the sky, the colour of his eyes and hair changed. Up until that moment, he was never keen in Fódlan’s religion. And he didn’t change his opinion still, he just started to believe some aspects of the Goddess they worship.

“And it doesn’t end here.” Dimitri snarled. “These people are lucky we arrived in time. Worse things could have happened.”

The villagers looked at each other, still trembling of what just happened. The women had a faint idea of what he was talking about. They were being separated from their husbands, brothers and fathers. Even the children were being separated from them. At the mere thought, men hugged their wives, mother and daughters, trying to calm them down.

“You have to be kidding me… they…” Claude didn’t want to believe it. He heard of some imperial kidnapping his people, but that was all. He _hoped_ that they would be gentle with them, but Dimitri’s words proved to be the exact opposite…

“I have seen it multiple times in the Dukedom and even in Leicester as well; women being kidnapped to be repeatedly raped and forced to carry their children, presumably to be raised and become weapons for the Empire, men being used to create demonic beasts and children being separated from their parents in order to experiment on them, probably to find new ways to create beasts more efficiently.”

A chill ran down on everyone’s spines. To think these people were fortunate enough they didn’t suffer that fate… they were fast to thank them for coming to their aid. Dimitri let out a small growl of discomfort at the mere gesture of gratitude and he turned his head away from them.

A raven landed on his shoulder, with a crest stone fragment still its beak. Handling a fragment of a crest stone to Dimitri, he showed it to Claude and the villagers, “If any of you see any of these fragments or a complete crest stone, destroy them. If any of you lack a Crest, you will turn into a monster if you handle it for a prolonged time, although blood is also a catalyst as well,” he crushed it with his hand, turning it to dust. The villagers looked at each other and then nodded at the prince. Then, Dimitri and Claude began to escort them to Garreg Mach.

It began to rain on the way back. To avoid being potentially hit lightning, Claude descended and together with his wyvern they walked alongside them. When the Leader saw a child having difficult to walk, he picked him up and placed him on his wyvern. Jealously, the boy’s little sister pulled Claude’s clothes, saying she wanted to ride his wyvern as well. Chuckling, the Leader picked her up and placed her in front of her brother and watched them both enjoy the ride.

Once they reached the monastery, they crossed the gates, but a child stopped and began to scratch his eye as everyone kept walking. However, Claude stopped and kneeled in front of the kid. “Are you alright?”

The boy began to cry inconsolably. Between tears, he did his best to ask where his parents were. When Claude reassured him that he was going to search for them, Dimitri stepped in, “They are dead.”

The kid looked at him disheartened. “You… are lying… you lie!” He continued crying as he started hitting him, small fists slamming weakly against the black armour. “You are wrong! YOU ARE WRONG!” The prince slowly shook his head. Defeated, the child fell on his knees, his head hanging down, still crying inconsolably.

“You didn’t have to do this…” Claude looked at Dimitri with a mix of anger and sadness.

Ignoring the Leader completely, Dimitri bent down. “Forgive me. I couldn’t save them… Their deaths only adds to my failures.” He began to pat the kid’s head. The leader looked at the scene a bit astonished. He knew the prince was holding back some tears as his eyes started to get a bit glassy. After seeing only brutality in his actions, it felt good, rewarding even, to see there was still some kindness within him.

Doing his best, Dimitri gently cleaned away the kid’s tears with his –clawed– thumb and said reassuringly, “Everything is going to be alright…”

As much as Claude disapproved what Dimitri just did, he had some hopes for him, there were some traces of the kind man he remembered five years ago: a man who dedicate some of his time taking care of the orphans, training them how to use the sword because they asked him. Then he remembered: Dimitri was an orphan at a young age too, the late queen of Faerghus died soon after he was born and the late king assassinated when the prince was still a kid. Not only that, he survived the massacre. Of course the prince would deeply empathize with orphans.

Dimitri picked the kid and began to walk away from Claude and he followed him, curious where he was taking the young boy, who fell asleep on his shoulder after shedding many tears. Back to his old room, the prince placed the kid in his former bed and covered him with the blankets. After leaving the room, Claude waited for him right next to the door, “You know, it’s nice to see you are still a soft-hearted sucker after seeing this nasty side of yours.”

Dimitri let out a small disapproving snarl and left the dormitories. Smiling, Claude watched the prince leaving and then he slowly closed the door.

Still raining, Dimitri didn’t return to the Goddess’s Tower. To Claude’s surprise, he was sitting on the cathedral’s roof. He didn’t even realize when or _how_ he got in there. Although his riding skills, both at handling terrestrial and flying creatures were exceptional, he didn’t have winged friend that could help him to reach the cathedral’s top other than the ravens that always followed him. But of course, that was virtually impossible. There was no way even a hundred of them could lift a man cladded in armour. But the Moon Demon was just there, ‘chilling’ with the birds. One by one, more joined him. They watched, a shining blue eye observed the monastery from above, almost as if they were tasked to watch over the people in Garreg Mach. And when Claude watched them, they watched back. They kept watching.

The Leader had zero idea what was going on in their minds, but they looked very ominous to him. The Moon Demon watches from above… and the collective name of ravens being called ‘murder’, ‘unkindness’ and even ‘treachery’? Without knowing them very well, anyone could think that only evil could come out of this nasty combination, even if these birds assisted Claude in the last battle.

However, he knew very well how intelligent these creatures are. In his youth he used to fear them. Ravens are bigger than your average courtyard bird, they are black and they have a bad reputation of being portrayed as liars and tricksters in old tales and folklore, hence one of their collective names being called ‘treachery’. But when Claude nursed one back to health when he was a kid back in Almyra, the animal showed gratitude by bringing him gifts, mainly small precious gemstones. This gesture took him by surprise, a pleasant surprise. It was then when he changed his opinion on these amazing and misunderstood creatures. And when his little friend passed away in his arms during the academy days, he asked Hilda if she could do anything with what the raven have gifted him. Then with the help of Marianne, they buried him and left a necklace made with the gemstones the bird found during his lifetime as a monument of the long friendship they shared.

Thinking back on those days, Claude wondered what kind of friendship they share. The birds seemed to be comfortable with all the food –carrion– he leaves in his wake and they had shown themselves to be very protective towards him. And because they helped him in the last battle, Claude assumed the ravens helped Dimitri in his encounters as well, learning how to assist him in any way. They were smart enough to snatch the crest stones fragments from the mages and peck them to dust. These creatures continued to amaze him, though he had his doubts on should they really trust this… demon, beyond him providing them with food and allowing them to chill around him. To Claude’s surprise, people didn’t come up with a new name that associated him with ravens. So, at some point he was expecting it, like the “Lord of Ravens” or something else.

* * *

_Why things must replicate?_

_Why does the samsara of suffering must go on?_

_Why things must replicate?_

_Why do the chains of sadness never stop?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is Dimitri an actual demon? Well... yes but actually no.


	6. Shattered Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claude learns more about what plagues Dimitri's mind.  
> And then he learn more shit that blows his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this one took time. To make it brief, these last two weeks, especially the last week, have been stressful for me because things happened...  
> I wanted to write to forget about that, and every time I tried my mind was just blocked.

Claude overslept. Unlike the troubled prince, he had a decently good rest. Most of the army did, anyways. Though the war took a heavier toll on Dimitri, it doesn’t mean others were fine or unaffected. If anything, Claude was surprised to see his former classmates didn’t lose their cheerful demeanour, even in these grim times. However, it reminded him the aftermath of Remire’s chaos, his own words towards Byleth. They have to keep smiling so others can move forward too. As long as they don’t show sign of despair, others can feel they can make though hard times too.

For the first time since the war began, he thought not all hope was lost. Being away from his friends, Byleth presumably dead and the deplorable state of Dimitri made him forget. Even if Hilda remained by his side all the time, she too despaired at the demoralizing tactics the Empire is using.

And so he remembered, the chapter “the Divine Numerology” in one of the religious books in the library; the Ten Elites contributed in it before they fell to the darkness and had to be put down. His ancestor, Riegan, was the one who contributed in the significance of the Number Two with some help from Blaiddyd:

_In truth, Number Two is the first number, for it’s the first multitude it can be measured by no number besides the Unity alone –known as Number One to most–, the common measure of all numbers. It is known as the number of Friendship and Love. And so, my friend Blaiddyd says, “Woe to the one who stands alone! Because when they fall, they have no other to help them. And if two sleep together, they will share their heat; How shall one be warmth alone? – If anyone prevails against them, two shall resist them. And if one shall fall, they shall be supported by the other.” …However, Number Two is sometimes the number of Discord, of Confusion – because Number Two is the one who begat Disparity. Do not forget, just as most things has Two sides, one that one may call Good and Evil, Order or Chaos, so too does Number Two._

Their words are indeed true from a certain point of view. One cannot stand alone against the world, but when the duo is overwhelmed, then perhaps a single company is never enough. Claude and Hilda needed their old friends to help them through this hard times, and perhaps they too needed the reassurance of their fighting prowess to elevate their hopes as well. And this is Dimitri’s problem. He stands alone against everything and he would rather stay that way, isolating himself from everyone else, which is the exact opposite thing he needs to do.

Even if it seemed to be a bad idea, Claude felt the need to ask some questions. Even though he wanted to help, he didn’t know how. Some part of him wanted to help because it was just in his nature, to help those in need, another part of him wanted to help because his current state was dragging down the army’s morale, and if Claude wanted to secure help from the eastern lords, then they needed their prince safe and sound, not in this terrible state.

As much as he wanted a day for his troops to rest after working hard to clean the place, there is a war going on, they couldn’t effort even a single day off. The sooner they could end this, the better, so Claude wasted no time and went to the Goddess’s Tower, assuming Dimitri was there. And as he expected, there were ravens on the roof, some of them flying away, others landing there.

For the first time since cleaning the place, it wasn’t frightening to enter the place, although given who was in there, it still kind of was, especially when Claude knew what that person is capable of. While climbing the stairs, he began to hear the prince’s voice. He sounded rougher than normal, very angry. But sometimes he sounded sad and then switched back to his angry, rough tone and so on. The higher Claude climbed, the clearer he could hear Dimitri. To his understanding, the prince didn’t seem to be talking with someone other than himself. It’s not like anyone would want to talk with him other than Byleth and to the Leader’s surprise, Seteth was there, hiding next to the room’s entrance. When the green-haired man saw Claude, he made a motion to stay quiet. Doing what he asked, he then stood next to him, against the wall. “What are you doing here?” the Leader asked quietly.

Seteth didn’t answer; he seemed to be focused on Dimitri, who was still talking to himself, or rather than that, talking to his own delusions. But after hearing it all, it almost seemed like a mantra. First, he says the following words with a rough, guttural tone, full of hatred, “ _Adrestia… imperious murderers, blood crazed monsters… Atonement for the miserable, by the wrath of those who fell to the flame…,_ ” then his tone changes to a grieving one, “ _Solace for those who fell at Duscur and the war… Solace, please…_ ” And then repeated over and over.

His saddened tone, almost a desperate one, almost on the verge of tears, made his last sentence almost sound like a plead for mercy, although he wouldn’t like someone interpreting his words as such, given in his eyes is the same as arrogance and he has a strong distaste towards hubris. So, instead a plead for mercy, a plead for freedom, for release, for it is what actually is.

Although Seteth and Claude know what he means by his mantra, this behaviour was a problematic one. Not really that bad compared to his awful methods of killing, but still one they couldn’t ignore nonetheless. The Leader decided to peek out, to see what the heck is happening other than Dimitri chanting his mantra. He was holding his lance with both hands and almost leaning on it, as if he was struggling to stand on his feet. He looked he was about to fall on his knees, which would make the second part of his mantra more powerful. To his surprise, the ravens weren’t with him, chilling on his fur or anything the like, the prince was standing there completely alone. Despite Seteth’s protests, Claude walked towards Dimtri, who seemed not to have noticed his presence even if he was right in front of him. Even if his head was hanging down, anyone could tell at least someone is standing in front of them, right? Well, not this man, he kept chanting his mantra, still unaware of Claude, who said, “Hey, you ok right there?”

Dimitri kept chanting for some moments. Then he stopped and looked at Claude, barely raising his head. He said nothing and then bared his teeth. There, he saw them up to close, his fangs, pointy and longer than your average canine. Despite the gesture, it wasn’t an aggressive one but closer to a frustrated one. Then he let out a long sigh along with lots of ice fumes. The first time Claude saw him doing this, he was away from him but now that he was close, he felt it even though he was wearing clothes. It was cold, to the point the air around them cooled down. Almost unbelievable to Claude even though he just saw it and felt it with his very skin. It reminded him of ice or white dragons from fantastic stories he occasionally read. This was as close as he could get as breathing cold breath and if Claude was being honest with himself, he was half-expecting Dimitri to do it like dragons do at some point, just to stop getting impressed by nearly everything this madman does. And without saying a word, the prince lowered his head again and continued chanting his mantra, his only action being acknowledging Claude’s presence. Seeing that Dimitri wasn’t in the mood for a conversation, the Leader left the place and with Seteth, they left the tower together, “It is strange for you to allow the prince to stay in the Tower. No offense, of course.” Claude said on their way to the cathedral.

“None taken. I may be a member of the Church and I may do not condone the prince. However, I do have a little grasp of what he has been through, thanks to Flayn. In fact, I thought her words to him would have helped him, but it seems he needed way more than that.”

“Flayn and Dimitri? Well, she is a very friendly lass, I just never imagined her giving some words of encouragement to someone like him.”

“One could see it that way, I suppose. To be more accurate, it was an advice to cope better at the loss of a loved one.” Seteh let out a loud sigh. “Even after all these years, the memory of the Tragedy of Duscur still haunts him. And for what I have seen in the Blue Lions, a good number of the students were deeply affected as well. Given their behaviour, they still mourn at the loss, especially the prince.”

Silence followed, only interrupted by the occasional sound of crunching stone made by the big pile of rubble. Claude did not know what to say. For him, the Tragedy of Duscur wasn’t a big deal as he did not suffered nor was affected by it, only a mere event of the past in a foreign land. But for those who found no solace in their grief, the tragedy is still a part of their present, as fresh as the blood that did gush from the wounds of those who lost their lives that day. However, it was an issue he wanted to know more about, as its consequences left Dedue, one of the survivors, being discriminated despite the prince vouching for him and his people. There is clearly something wrong with what happened in there. “…You think that Hanneman knows more about him? I mean, he was in charge of the Blue Lions after all.”

“That was what I was thinking and that is my hope as well. Although not exactly part of their duty, we always advise them to hear their student’s problems so they can help them in any way they can. Of course, we do not mean for them to intrude in their personal lives, only to lend an ear if they are feeling stressed.”

“That’s very thoughtful, although if the students don’t feel sharing their problems… well, that’s a rather difficult situation if Dimitri is any indication.”

“Sadly yes, we are aware of that. Being a professor is not an easy task; one requires social skills in order to work with other people, especially when it comes to guidance. One must know how to identify a worrisome behaviour, so at least they can let them know if they need to be heard.”

“Hehe, now I can see more reasons why you were distrustful towards Teach five years ago. But at the end of the day, I think we are both glad he came to the monastery.” Claude now began to understand why Seteth was against letting Byleth teach as professor. Not only he was not told beforehand and Seteth had no knowledge about him; the mercenary’s social skills were rather… low, not matter how skilled he is as a fighter. Not exactly an unapproachable person, but not someone would want to have a talk with without feeling awkward or uncomfortable. However, this wasn’t a big problem for Claude. He has enemies from both sides of the wall; he would be more than glad to be with someone who isn’t openly aggressive or distrustful towards him. And the mystery that surrounded him… it made the opposite effect; he was drawn towards Byleth instead of being driven away.

“Yes, you are right. And I have never been so happy to have been proven wrong. In any case, we should go Hanneman’s office. He should be there.”

Without exchanging more words, they went to the Crest Scholar’s office. On their way they met Byleth, who happens he also wanted to ask Hanneman about Dimitri. Apparently they were one of the few who knew what plagued the prince’s mind as everyone else didn’t cared about him, only seeing him as a monster for understandable reasons. As for the Golden Deer… well, let’s just say some of them are a bit conflictive. Not Lorenz though, as unsurprisingly the purple-haired man sees the prince a disgrace of nobility, for understandable reasons as well.

Hanneman wasn’t in his office and to their surprise he was in the infirmary with Manuela, who in turn were surprised to see the three of them there. They were sitting on a roundtable they just moved in there, facing the other.

“Well, this is unexpected, something happened? Someone got hurt?” A natural thing to ask as one of the physicians. If there wasn’t a war going on, Manuela would have winked at them, but she didn’t.

“No. Actually, we were looking for Hanneman. We wanted to ask some questions, I hope you don’t mind,” Seteth said as he took a seat next to the old scholar, followed by Claude who took a seat next between him and Manuela.

“Well, I am more than glad to share my knowledge!” Despite these times, he sure looked eager to speak about his dedication, Crests.

“I am afraid we didn’t come here to ask about Crests,” Byleth said as he took a seat on the other side of Manuela, “It’s about Dimitri.”

“Oh! Oh… I see,” upon hearing his name, Hanneman’s thrilled tone changed to a saddened one, “Well, it just happens that Manuela and I were talking about him. You came just in time.”

“You were? I suppose that’s good to hear,” Claude said, “You know, it happens that Seteth and I just came from the Goddess’s Tower. We wanted to talk with the prince but let’s just say his mind isn’t in the right place. He doesn't have any intention to murder us for now, but his behaviour… it’s just unsettling.”

“Oh, you decided to pay him a visit? Tell me about his behaviour,” Manuela said with her eyes fixed on Claude. She was serious on this.

“Um… how to tell… well, the most distinct part was his chanting, his mantra. The weirdest part is how easily he changes his tone in a blink of an eye. First he expressed his hatred towards the Empire and then his grief towards those who died at Duscur and this war.”

“A mantra you say? Well, this news to me. Anyway, did he recognize your presence? Was his attention elsewhere? Did he just plain ignore you?” They were very specific questions, it sounds like Manuela heard or saw someone behaving this way before.

“Hard to tell at first. When I walked in front of him, it took some moment for him to realize I was right there. Even after asking him is he was alright he didn’t reacted immediately, on that aspect, he seems his reactions feels… slow, and his awareness seems to be a bit poor or he was too fixated on what he was doing. Then, he looked at me and then looked away and kept chanting his mantra.”

“Oh dear…,” Hanneman let out a long sigh, “Manuela, you think is it possible? It looks he went too deep for any of us to take.”

“Well, he was isolated for five years. Solitud alone for a prolonged time is enough to drive anyone mad and the prince was already a mess before he was driven away from his country. Ugh, if only we knew he was alive all this time...! But nevermind. For what you have told me, it’s more than clear he has the Shattered Mind condition.”

“Shattered Mind?” Byleth asked very curiously. The name alone sounded… serious, so to speak, “I… have never heard something like that. Care to explain?”

“The Shattered Mind is an abnormal condition where the person’s mind has a… break from reality. They can’t tell what is real and what is not. Is quite rare but well, since I am a doctor, it is natural that patients come to me, no matter how common or rare their conditions are.”

“I... um… What do you mean the person has a ‘break from reality’? It’s hard to grasp.” Claude scratched the back of his head.

“Is quite complex. But what you must know is that hallucination is almost the most common symptom they have, and they are extremely real for them. And given their nature… well, you don’t need to guess that every experience is very different from one person to another. It ranges from seeing things to hearing things, to the point they can start an argument with someone who isn’t real. Some people smell different; even their sense of taste can be completely different. I remembered one of my past patients threw away food because for her, the smell was awful, rotten. And when I checked, it was fresh and recently cooked!”

“That sounds… awfully complicated. I can’t even fathom how difficult must be dealing with it.” Claude was already very vigilant thanks to his mixed heritage, and luckily his senses never betrayed him, ever. If he had this condition, his paranoia would have been quite… problematic.

“Ah… to think this condition can potentially affect the person’s senses? Now I suspect the prince’s sense of taste has been affected as well,” Hanneman placed one of his hands on his chin, “his vassal, Dedue, once told me he was a bit frustrated that Dimitri always avoided telling him his favourite food, and that he was happy to eat any meal he cooked for him. When we shared a meal together he said he used to like it as a kid, not that he actually likes it.”

“And if may I add, he is the only one who enjoys Flayn’s dishes, known as being very pungent. I suspect his sense of taste isn’t different, it’s just not there.” Seteth said.

“Usually, head injury can cause the loss of this sense, stress and anxiety can do that too, and a very specific injury on the jaw. Aging is also a common cause, it’s not strange for some elders to have a hard time enjoying meals. But the prince is still a young man, age is clearly not the cause,” Manuela placed a hand on the table and with the index finger she began to tap the surface, “Given the circumstance of his life…”

“The Tragedy of Duscur is a safe bet,” Hanneman said with a saddened tone, “he was just a child when it happened. To think he stopped enjoying meals since such a young age…”

Given that Manuela already worked with people who had this condition, it wasn’t something from another world to her, and Seteth and Hanneman looked like they have seen people with this condition as well. But for Byleth and Claude… it was hard for them to believe. They are overall alright to the point that they just can’t believe their minds can’t be tricked, but little do they know that sometimes your own mind can betray you.

“And another notable symptom: delusion, a firm belief that can’t possibly be true despite the evidence that proves otherwise. You know, a common delusion they have is to believe that healing potions are venom and they vehemently refuse to drink it. Or when I tried to heal their injuries, they refused as well because they thought my magic was going to harm them or curse them.”

That reminded Claude when Dimitri refused being healed. Even though his reasons were completely different, it made sense to the Leader nevertheless, however…“Well, that pretty much explains why he strongly believes Edelgard is responsible for the Tragedy of Duscur despite being almost impossible. If Dimitri said it was someone from the Empire I would have believed him, but the current Emperor? She was a child when it happened, a kid couldn’t have orchestrated it. And she sounded very honest to me when she said she had nothing to do with it.”

“I can understand his outrage. A lot of things happened five years ago because of the Flame Emperor – Edelgard. To think all of it happened right under our noses, MY nose, ugh! And worse, her subordinate, the Death Knight, is the one who stabbed me! The nerve! But enough of that, she was already old enough to plan for that. The previous Emperor or someone else has to be the mastermind behind Tragedy, not a child.”

“For now it doesn’t matter who is or was responsible,” Byleth said, “we have more a important matter at hand. Manuela, you talk as if you worked with your patients without any risk. So far, you haven’t mentioned aggression or anything the like.”

“Yes, you are right. You see, people who have a Shattered Mind are not prone to violence, the prince is a special case. These people are confused, you know. They have a hard time telling what is real and what is not. So, if they turn aggressive or at least defensive, is because they are scared.”

Now it made sense to Claude why Dimitri stays away from everyone. As much as everyone is scared of him, apparently he is scared of them too. Even if they haven’t acted aggressive towards him yet, their disdain is clear and the prince knows. Shattered Mind doesn’t make the person stupid, their senses are twisted in a way that people perceive them as freaks and they know.

“You see, I have been told many times by several people of the Kingdom: Sylvain, Dedue, Ingrid and even here from the monastery, Flayn and Catherine,” Hanneman began to explain, “Dimitri cares too much for people, to the point he neglects himself for the sake of others. In fact, Catherine was worried about what could happen to him if war fell upon us.”

“I see…” Claude said, “I know he comes from a place where chivalry and righteousness are highly valued, and him being the prince doesn't come as a surprise condemning what he considered evil. Given what the Empire is currently doing to the people of Faerghus and my people, I kind of understand his hatred, but…”

“Listen, Claude,” Manuela placed her hand on his shoulder, “I know you have conflicting opinions about him. Trust me when I say a lot of people are conflictive towards those with a Shattered Mind. What we are trying to do is to explain his struggles and try to understand him better, not to condone him. What you must know is that he is not a monster like most people tend to paint him, he is just another victim.”

There is truth in her words, people nowadays are quick to point a finger to another and call them out for their actions and/or attitudes. They don’t have empathy or sympathy nor do they question themselves why they do that and disregard their feelings. Instead of trying to understand why a thief steals food, they condemn him as irremediable, when he could have been stealing to provide for his family. While it does no change the fact he is causing harm by stealing, understanding his position and why he does what he does, at least he will not be degraded as a monster for doing what he does and perhaps any kind soul could give a helping hand and set him on the right path. There are, of course, actions deemed as irremediable, but that is a complete different matter…

“Let me explain it to you in a different scenario,” Manuela continued, “Most people fear the prince. We have witnessed his strength and his behaviour is frightening to most. However, what he is facing right know is something way much scarier. The Shattered Mind is something you cannot see nor hear nor touch; it strikes your mind randomly, it has no mercy and it doesn’t allow you to escape and hide. Dimitri’s strength is completely useless against this unseen foe, his true foe. He can’t face it alone, because his mind is not as strong as his body. You came here for a reason, now I think you get what I am trying to say.”

“He needs help…” Byleth said after a long sigh, “However, he doesn’t trust us enough. He keeps pushing us away from him.”

“I don’t know if I would word it that way, Teach. But you got something right: he doesn’t trust us. You know, I have been thinking about this, and honestly? I am still unsure. But calling for the eastern lords for help, to rally them by letting them know that their prince is alive… perhaps this should get his old friends back to him. Perhaps they can help us to… fit together the pieces of his broken mind.”

“Just… let us hope that Felix doesn’t cause any trouble,” Hanneman said. It was a sentiment Byleth shared as well. Although pretty much everyone knew how problematic he can be. If he was to join them, then someone has to make sure he keeps his tongue behind his teeth. And there is another problem too, Sylvain. However, Byleth and Hanneman are very aware the ginger noble is not as laidback as he appears to be, and Manuela was quick to catch when she witnessed him learning magic with less difficult compared to other students. She knew that behind that skirt-chasing attitude there is a sharp mind, “and we will have to ask Sylvain to behave himself around women.” There, the old man said it.

“Hey, speaking about his friends… what happened to Dedue? You know, he was his vassal. You think they spared his life so he can serve the Dukedom?” Claude wanted to believe he is alive, although the chances were slim. He was a man from Duscur, and with Dimitri –one of the very few who vouched for Duscur’s innocence alongside Sylvain– gone from the map, nothing stopped Faerghus from executing him as well.

“I am afraid we cannot say for certain,” Seteth said, “he was always seen with his liege. If he isn’t with him now, well… there is a high chance he is longer with us. However, his body was never found. The least I can say it that he is missing. Who knows, perhaps he is hiding, waiting for his liege’s return.”

“I hope so… … …Anyways, we are in agreement we should try an alliance with the eastern lords, then?” Claude tried not to dwell in a possible loss and focus on what matters right now.

“I have no objections, but Rhea left the Church in your hands. Whatever you decide, Byleth, the Knight of Seiros will follow your lead. Hanneman, Manuela?”

“Well, other than helping us against the Empire and the prince’s state of mind, I would never reject the chance to see some of my former students.”

“I do wonder why you ask,” Manuela said a bit confused, “Hanneman and I do not hold any authority to decide any of this. Technically speaking, Byleth and Claude are the ones have the last word. But I digress, I appreciate that you ask our opinion on this, so, you have my support on this.”

“It is decided then. However, there is something that bothers me. If we assume the eastern lords will join us, there is no way Dimitri will be leading them. He is clearly not in position to do so,” as much as everyone agreed on the proposition, Byleth has a point. With the current state of Dimitri, he is clearly unfit to lead them, “if they join us, any of them should overrule the prince, at least temporally.”

On that pretty much everyone agreed. It was a matter to see if they agreed and who was coming, then they would decide who will lead the Old Kingdom’s forces. And satisfied with what they learned and their agreement, they went on their ways.

For now, all they had to do is keep their ground on Garreg Mach and hope for the eastern lord to join them and start their counterattack. And now that they had some time free, Claude had some questions to Byleth, and insisted to be in a more private place, “Sorry to drag you to your old room, Teach, but I have some questions. I don’t know if you have the answer, but I just feel you might know.”

“I am unsure, but go on.”

“As you probably suspected, it’s about Dimitri in our last battle together. Have you seen it? I had to pinch myself to make sure I wasn’t seeing things and it seems our enemies saw it as well.”

“And you ask me since the Goddess gifted me her powers, you believe I may know something, correct?”

“Yup, pretty much. And before you came to the tower, I found him in very… awful conditions, conditions that could have killed anyone. He was pierced by several weapons against the ground and well, he should be dead. Very dead. Super dead. But here he stands alive and well. Alhtough... not exactly well now that we know his mind is a giant mess.”

Byleth stood there for a moment, thinking what it could mean. He saw it from his perspective, Time seems to have no effect on Dimitri as he can move as he pleases during Divine Pulse. He knows that much, but beyond that he is unsure. Perhaps it’s time to tell Claude about his powers…, “Listen. I know you think I am a great tactician and you place a great deal on me, and I am grateful. The truth is… I am not as perfect as you believe.”

“Why is that?” Claude was a bit confused why the sudden change of subject, but he was more than willing to listen.

“Remember what I told you after I escaped the darkness? About the little girl that claimed to be the Goddess who was by side since I remember? Controlling Time – the Divine Pulse – for very short periods is perhaps the most notable power she granted me since I rescued the three of you from the bandits.”

“Wait, you have been able to use her powers way before you were blessed?”

“Yes. Her blessing is what allowed me to tear through the darkness. Normally I wouldn’t have been able to do that.”

“Even though I saw you pierce the sky with my eyes, I still find it hard to believe. But what this has to do with Dimitri?

“Time has no hold on him. You see, when I make a mistake, I use Divine Pulse. What it does is to stop Time, and only I am aware of it, or so I thought. Then I can go back to the moment I made my mistake and rectify it. However, I can only go back in Time for a few seconds, not for hours, days or years. Otherwise, I could have gone as far as to avoid this war from ever happening…”

It was a lot to take in. Claude knew Byleth had some amazing powers he had yet to see. And that is the problem, he will never see them in action. But that is one of the reasons why they were so successful in battles and why there were few casualties on their side as long he was in it, he could go back in Time where he did something wrong a few seconds ago and fix it. It’s not that he was almost flawless, he can make mistakes like anyone and unlike others, he has the chance to prevent it from ever happening. And now that he knows that Dimitri doesn’t give a shit about Time, that could explain why he saw him shifting from one place to another, it was the effect of the Divine Pulse that didn’t worked on him. “That’s… wow. But well, you are assuming Time doesn’t affect him since he ignores this Divine Pulse of yours, but it was one of the Goddess’s powers, right? Perhaps he was blessed by some other deity that ignores that specific ability of hers. It’s just… being able to bypass such a powerful ability is no joke, and you know better than me.”

“Then it has to be quite a powerful deity. Being able to control Time, even for a few seconds, is not something that should be taken lightly. However…”

“Fódlan has only one deity, and the previous kings of Faerghus always supported the Church from what I have read. Perhaps it was called the Holy Kingdom for more than one reason other than being founded with the Church’s help, you know.”

“Perhaps. But for now we have next to no information about that and trying to assume will leads us to nothing.”

“You are right. For now, let us focus on getting the prince’s mind back together. Perhaps then he may be able to tell us something about him. And I think it would be wise this conversation stays between us. The Church wouldn't like it one bit, even if it comes from your mouth, don’t you think?”

Byleth nodded and then they went on their ways.

Today Claude was filled with too much information for him to take. In some ways it reassured him that things could change on their favour if they managed to bring back the prince. On the other hand, he felt overwhelmed and he didn’t know if it was a good thing or not. He has two powerful beings fighting on his side, beings that just can’t be considered human no matter how human they look, no matter how many times it was proven to him that they are very real despite the odds. And that is something that scared Claude to some extent, even Byleth who is firmly on his side and a trusted friend. The Leader knows he can trust him as he went as far as to reveal his powers unseen by nearly everyone and his father’s journal, a very personal object. Even still, somewhere in his heart, he fears them. He just can’t grasp them completely. The more questions are answered, more rise in their stead. That’s the reason perhaps, the more he knows the less he actually knows about the subject. And that can be seen as a good thing since he does not become haughty for what he just learned. Others may grow overconfident and arrogant should they know that someone with amazing powers that can potentially change the course of war is on their side. Claude, on the other hand, decided to keep it for himself because he knows that people knowing about this would bring lots of problems. The last thing he wanted is to people disregard Byleth as a person because of his divine powers.

* * *

_Feeling faint, he transcends Time._

_Like a flood, lies fill his memories. He cannot trust his own mind._

_Her blood, her death, her head,_

_Only concern fills his days._


	7. Omen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claude makes a new friend. But little did he know that his new friend is quite... unique. Very unique.  
> And this friend warns him that something bad AND good will happen to him if he keeps getting himself involved with Dimitri.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy time for more angst for our blond lord. And a little comfort... except not.
> 
> Eventually he'll get the snuggles he craves, but for now he needs to suffer a bit more.

Claude took the afternoon watch on top of his wyvern and something unexpected happened: a single raven followed him around and together they flew around Garreg Mach. However, he noticed this one was special as it is waaay bigger than average. And when it decided to land on his wyvern’s neck, it was was more than evident.

Once his watch was done, he insisted on taking a nap, so he could save strength and energy to take the night watch, mainly in case Dimitri decided to venture outside the monastery alone. The prince could end up being immobilized like when he found him for the first time in the Goddess’s Tower.

When he landed the raven began to follow him. Before going to his room, he walked around for some minutes, in case the bird wanted to fly away, but it didn’t, still following him. Thinking perhaps the animal was hungry, he called his wyvern and the two flew just outside the monastery and began to dig around to find some worms. And they did, there were plenty of them, and the raven had quite a feast, occasionally cawing happily. Once finished the bird flew on the wyvern’s snout and the lizard raised its head confused as the small animal moved to chill on its neck. Claude didn’t know what to with the bird but he didn’t have much of a choice rather than letting it do whatever it pleased, so he flew back to the monastery with his ‘new big, little friend’ and thinking that perhaps at least it would go on its way once there, but the raven still followed him around. He chuckled and picked the animal, “I know you had quite a big meal, but I am sure you are not fat enough to be unable to fly,” then he placed it on his left shoulder, only for the bird to fly right on top of his head and give him a small peck, perhaps a petty retaliation at the mere suggestion of being called fat. Claude feinted to go inside the building and the raven still didn't move one inch from his head. That’s when he gave up and decided to nap with the big bird, but just in case he opened the window. When settled down on his bed, the animal moved next to him a chilled.

Despite how weird a big raven decided to follow him around, Claude was rather happy about it. It reminded in his younger days when he shared a friendship with one of them, he just hoped this war doesn’t claim its life.

He had a weird dream despite being in his room. Weird because the big raven he just made friends with appeared as well, and a dark fog shrouded it, and grew bigger and bigger. When it dissipated, there was a winged humanoid with raven traits, sitting on the bed’s edge. He –Claude assumed its male– was wearing fancy blue robes and dark blue pants. Perhaps what stood out the most was the red hat on top of his head. One day after another, Claude kept seeing weird things. Just to make extra sure, he pinched himself. No, it didn’t hurt, so yes, he is dreaming. But still, dreaming about a bird-man is something even he didn’t see coming.

With his left talon-hand –that noticeable has four fingers instead of five– he was holding a pipe. On his other side there was a scimitar. Even with a weapon within reach, the bird-man wasn’t hostile at all, and began to smoke the pipe. Claude sat next to him and watched closely. A bird-man smoking a pipe? Weird, but if he had to be honest with himself, he doesn’t have to think too much about things happening in a dream. After exhaling smoke, he looked at him, “Surprised, friend?”

Until now, he was indeed surprised of what he saw, but creature’s voice took the cake, “Well… yes. You sound like… me?” Yep, they both sound awfully similar, except the bird-man sounds older and higher.

“Parrots aren’t the only birds that can mimic voices, you know,” the bird-man continued smoking, “I’m doing a good job, don’t you think?”

“Quite good to be honest, I can see someone falling to that trick, even if for a few moments.” Claude continued to look carefully. There was something off about this dream. Sure, he likes to read fantastic stories other than books of history, but he doesn’t remember reading books about bird-men, and his overall knowledge about fantasy isn’t enough for his mind to make up things like this. But he accepted it regardless, it wasn’t really that bad. “What’s your name?”

“Ikkar. And there no need for yours, I already know you. Thanks for the worms, they were really yummy.” Ikkar began to pat his belly.

Well, now Claude was a bit more confused. This bird-man named Ikkar knows that he fed the big raven lots of worms. Many things are possible, like the dream messing with him by using the big raven’s memories, or given how special the bird seems to be, Ikkar being a supernatural creature that uses the big raven –a special one to boot– as a proxy isn’t a wild idea. Perhaps it is easier to ask him directly, he seems to be a nice bird-man… “Are you really the big raven I just fed?”

“That’s what I just said.”

Well, if the dream wasn’t messing with him, then its Ikkar, “Soo… the big raven in real life is actually you? A bird-man named Ikkar?”

“Nah, the big raven is just a big raven until it decides to turn into a bird-man named Ikkar.”

Yeah, Ikkar is definitely messing with him, although to be fair he wasn’t exactly wrong, Claude didn’t word his question properly. But given how they were answered… in real life this big raven _could_ actually turn into Ikkar instead of being a thing in his dream that is messing with him. “Well, yeah. Let’s just go with that. I’m sure you just didn’t decide to pop up in my dream to thank me for the worms.”

“Yup. I came here to… let’s just say to ‘warn’ you about your blond friend. You see, I prayed to my god, to tell me what would happen if you keep getting involved with him. The result was both Woe and Weal.”

“Aaaand… you know exactly what is going to happen?”

“Nope. You see, gods are not exactly direct beings. When I ask the consequences of something, the only answers are Woe, Weal, both or nothing. And keep in mind, I asked what would happen to YOU specifically, not those around you.”

“So… you say that something good and bad is going to happen to me if I keep being involved with Dimitri?”

“Yup. If you don’t believe me, ask me something, and then I will ask my god for the outcomes.”

If Claue was being honest with himself, he wasn’t sure about this. Dreams aren’t prophetic nearly all of the time, and usually are the manifestation of the subconscious. However, he was curious and there was nothing he had to lose by asking. It’s just a friendly gesture from Ikkar. However, he has to be careful with his wording given the bird-man’s warning. “Well, if you say so… Mmm… What will happen to Fódlan if the Empire wins the war?”

“That’s a good question right there. Now, give some moment, please,” Ikkar handled his pipe to Claude and then held his scimitar with both hands and closed his eyes. The blade began to shine brightly and after a few moments, it stopped and Ikkar opened his eyes, “Woe and Weal.”

“I see… So if Adrestia wins, it’s not exactly that bad for Fódlan. Then, Edelgard is fighting for something that is worth it, but her methods… yeah. I can see why Woe and Weal both. In that case… wouldn’t you mind if you ask what would happen to Fódlan if we win the war?”

“Of course,” doing the same as before, the scimitar began to shine and after a few moments it stopped, “Weal.”

“I see. That’s good to hear. More of the reasons to do our best to win this war, we don’t know what will happen to me if I continue, but if this is one of the better possible outcomes for Fódlan, then it’s worth it too. Besides, it’s not one-sided when it comes for me.”

“Well, let us hope that whatever something bad happens to you, it isn’t as dangerous like leaving you blind, deaf, a missing arm, or a missing leg… anything that leaves you in inconvenience to fight properly.”

“How about hoping you don’t jinx it? Honestly, any of those sound bad enough already. I would rather catch a cold because of him, which is bad enough to take it as Woe, right?”

“Hahaha, well, let’s hope so. For now, do your best and watch out, ok young man?”

As if both asked for it, everything went black and they pretty much said in unison, ‘Well… fuck,’ even if they were still dreaming. Things were too fishy to be a coincidence. Ikkar grabbed Claude and flapped his wings, thinking that he would fall to the darkness. However, after noticing he weighed nothing, he let him go. He was jut there, not standing on his feet, but not flying either. After calming themselves, they finally managed to stay on their feet by visualizing the floor in their minds. Even in complete darkness, they could see the other pretty well but still, Ikkar conjured a small ball of light. It made no difference, so he shut it off. Even with his scimitar at hand, the bird-man didn’t seem to prepare himself for battle and began to smoke his pipe. However, after looking around despite the nothingness that surrounded them, they saw a point of light in the distance. Without even asking themselves or thinking about it, they walked towards it and slowly but surely, the light grew bigger with each step. Now closer to it, it began to move higher and became clear of what it was, the moon, a paleblue moon.

Because their eyes were fixed on the moon, they didn’t realize that someone else was also in the dream. It was Dimitri, hovering in space. It was a bit hard to see him at first glance given his black armour blended a bit too good with the darkness but his blue cape and his fur, hanging upwards, made it easier to identify him other than his pale hair and the ice fumes his body emanated. He was in fetal position, but unlike most people his back wasn't curved forward, his legs were half-way to his chest and they were a bit spread, but his heels still touched the other. His head tilting to his right shoulder and a little bit forward without hunching over. His hands held together in front of him, the left hand on top of the right, as if he was holding something that Claude and Ikkar couldn’t see. They thought this was weird as Dimitri’s functional eye was closed; if it was open and looking at what he was holding, then it could make sense as he was probably being delusional –even in a dream– of holding something that was not there, but his eyes was closed, he could not see nor he seemed to be aware of his surroundings.

The cloak became ethereal and the banner of the Old Kingdom disappeared. Its shade began to darken, taking the colour of the night sky and began to spread everywhere and the entire place began to dot itself with shining points, presumably stars. Several ethereal skeletons manifested out of nowhere and surrounded the prince. They began to hang on his legs, his arms, his fur, even his neck, on everything they could grip. However, none of them dared to touch his hands, because Dimitri was now holding an ethereal skull. Both Claude and Ikkar began to hear rough and guttural voices calling the prince. They hated him, loathed him, asking him why he had to live and they had to die, why he didn’t die with them on that day. Dimitri began to shed tears.

“This is just awful to watch…” Claude was nervous about the whole situation. This is a dream and as weird as it is, he was still very uncomfortable. He tried to go with the prince but Ikkar stopped him, “What are you doing?”

“You don’t have weapons and your magic won’t be useful here. Let me try,” the bird-man sounded calm despite the situation. It hurt, but it was the truth. Ikkar flew it front of Dimitri and began to channel radiant energy into his scimitar. Claude looked closely; even if this wasn’t real, he knew the bird-man was way more than he let on and it showed. Ikkar knew magic that was nowhere to be found in Fódlan, or even in Almyra. It was a kind of magic that men didn’t know how to use it yet, and it didn’t seem very difficult to use. Then he fired a single wave of radiant energy shaped like a crescent moon with a single swipe of his scimitar and it exploded. Nothing happened; Dimitri and the ethereal skeletons didn’t even notice or didn’t even register the light.

“Well, that was shit.” Ikkar flew back next to Claude.

The prince finally opened his eye… both eyes actually, and he was still shedding tears. There was nothing in his left socket. Claude thought that perhaps his left eye was damaged to the point it grew cataracts so instead of having a blurry vision, he decided to not bother opening his left eye. But no, he actually was missing an eye, and little did Claude know the prince himself gouged out his own eye as an offering to the moon.

Dimitri moved his head to the skull he was holding, his forehead touching the object and after a few moments, he let it go. The skull was hovering in front of him and a headless skeleton grabbed it. They kept ranting hateful words to him and the only thing the prince did was to mutter ‘Please… forgive me…’ over and over and over, until at one point he said ‘Please… forgive me for surviving…’ but the voices never stopped. Slowly Dimitri took the position that most people are familiar with, he hunched forward, his arms warped around his legs as they were brought up against his chest as tightly as he could and he pressed his forehead on his knees. The ethereal skeletons could no longer hold his neck, but they still held onto him. Dimitri was still asking for forgiveness for surviving the tragedy, to the point of apologizing of being born, but his words were completely ignored in their hateful rants.

It became evident why fetal position is the human’s most preferred position. It protects most of their vital organs and if their arms are warped around their head, it protects their brain too. It isn't surprising why it’s the prince’s reaction to extreme stress and trauma and unable to cope, he shuts himself down.

“…Well, this is a very familiar position, and very familiar words,” there was sadness in Ikkar’s voice, “You know, when you said you counted on us on taking care of him, we were dead serious.”

Even if Ikkar meant every word judging by his voice, it was hard to tell based on his face. He has a beak, so the bird-man can’t really show emotions the way humans do, it’s hard to blame him. Even still, he took care of Dimitri for these lasts five years, watching over him alongside the other ravens and healing him when he had the chance. However, in this world, or perhaps continent, with “only” humans living in it, he couldn’t reveal himself. That would attract a lot of unwanted attention and because humans tend to hate or distrust anything that doesn’t look like them, he could end up dead in a matter of days, or even hours. No wonder why Ikkar decided show himself in Claude’s dream before showing himself in the waking world.

Unable to keep watching and doing nothing, Claude went to Dimitri and tried to push the ethereal skeletons away. Even if they looked like spectres, their touch on the prince made them seem very tangible. The Leader somewhat could push some of them away, but now they began to swarm him as well. However, their voices were different. They were calling the prince a monster, a fiend, a murderer, someone who deserves a violent demise, and he should be the one to grant the monster that gruesome end.

“As if I were to do that! Get the fuck away from me! And stay the FUCK away from him!” Claude kept pushing them away, but they kept coming. Ikkar tried to help him but it was no use. Strength wasn’t his forte and he was even weaker than Claude, and eventually he too was swarmed.

“Stop… please, stop…” Dimitri’s plead caught them off-guard, “You’ll know peace once I bring you her head… and they’ll the end of me… so please… let them go…” He now covered his face with his hands.

What the prince just said was insane to them. He would kill Edelgard and then let Claude and Ikkar kill him? The bird-man would have said ‘bullshit’, but he was a bit shocked by Dimitri’s desire. Claude, however, what surprised of how stupidly submissive he was. However, that didn’t stop the ethereal skeletons from swarming them. These hateful spirits were ruthless and knew no mercy.

After some moments of fruitless struggle, the moon began to shine brightly above them and tendrils of light began to surge from Dimitri’s shoulders and his back. And, it didn’t stop there. The moon began to shed its light, as if was crying, or perhaps bleeding, on the prince. The light tethered on the tendrils and Dimitri was bathed in its radiance, vanishing the ethereal skeletons. Even though they were gone, the prince was still crying, still pleading for forgiveness. Now that there was no one to hinder them, they finally went to Dimitri and kneeled in front of him. Claude wasn’t sure what to do, but he thought that perhaps he needs to say what the prince wants to hear the most, and so he said, “I forgive you.”

And with that, he stopped, slowly moving his hands away from his face, and now there was a bizarre feature in it. His empty right socket was now just plain paleblue light shining brightly and surrounded by cracks, almost looking like a broken doll. His tears were no longer clear as pure water, they were now a very intense blue dotted with golden. Claude and Ikkar didn’t know how important the significance of his tears were, the azure lazurite… the very same he gifted Felix two years ago in the form of a solidified tear.

Dimitri stood up, and so did Claude and Ikkar. His left hand was a bit soaked with his tears and then he muttered a small ‘Forgive me…’ before stabbing the Leader right at his heart barehanded. They looked in shock how the hand was buried to the wrist in Claude’s chest. It didn’t hurt nor did it anger them. And when Dimitri pulled out his hand it was no longer soaked but left no wound whatsoever. Although it was a bit hard for Claude to see it clearly, Ikkar had a better view, and his eyes were wide open when he saw the Crest of Blaiddyd shining right where Dimitri stabbed him. Its light continued to grow brighter until it left them blind… and the dream ended.

Claude woke up rather fast. Because people usually forget what they dreamt rather fast, the first thing he did was to see if the big raven was still next to him. It was, and it just woke up like he did and looked at him. Then he looked at the window, the sun was setting so if Dimitri was sleeping, he could wake up at any moment. His nap was longer than usual, rather his twenty minutes, it was close to an hour. Then, he looked back at the raven.

“Ikkar?” Claude asked the big bird. He answered by opening his beak. It kind of looked as if he was smiling, given that, well, birds don’t have lips and they can’t smile with their beaks. Claude chuckled, still grateful for doing his best to answer him, “So, you remember too. I better write it immediately before I forget about it, but before I do that…”

Claude opened the door and peeked out. There was nobody nearby, so he returned to his room and closed the door, “Hey, nobody is coming, so, I wondered if at least you could prove that this recently dream I had was truly a warning as you wanted it to be.”

Understanding his request, the raven jumped off the bed and like his dream, a dark fog surrounded him. It got bigger and bigger, until the bird-man he remembered was standing right in front of him, with his scimitar and pipe and all. Now that he wasn’t dreaming at all he just realized how short Ikkar is, and made sure to tease him about it, “I am sure you weren’t that short in my dream.”

“I’m not short, you are just fucking tall.” Despite his words, and sounded a bit annoyed, it was obvious he knew he was being teased and he did his best to answer in kind. It sounded more like a compliment though, while trying to deny the statement of being called a midget.

“Me, tall? Wait until you see Dimitri, or Nader,” Claude chuckled and Ikkar followed the sentiment. Now taking a piece of paper and a feather to write, the first thing he did was to write the good and the bad omen that awaited him. And Adrestia winning isn’t exactly a bad thing, but if the alliance between Leicester, the Church and possibly the Old Kingdom triumphed over the Empire, then a better future awaited for Fódlan, “Mmmm I suppose this is good enough.”

“I think you should add the weird part about Dimitri, don’t you think? It’s something that shouldn’t be ignored.”

“Yeah, you are right. Writing it down.”

As he kept writing, someone knocked the door and Ikkar felt his heart jumping to his throat. Both whispered at the same time ‘ _Shit!_ ’ and because he panicked a bit, the bird-man didn’t have much to return to his animal form and began to look everywhere, where he could hide. Together with Claude they continued to curse until the man said whispering and panicking, _‘Not the window, you are too big! My bed! Hide under my bed, quickly!_ ’ and as the bird man did so, someone opened to door.

“Claude? Oh, you are awake. I thought you were still sleeping,” Byleth peeked out from the door in case the man he was searching for was still napping. What he found, however, was a startled Claude and black feathers all over the place, some on the ground and some other still falling, “I… um… something happened?”

“Nothing special, really! I just made friends with a big raven that flew in. Look!” Claude crouched down and peeked to see his new friend. After a few pats with his hands, the big raven came out under the bed, “I decided to name him… Ikkar!” he said as he picked him up, placing him on his shoulder.

Byleth’s eyes widened a little bit and then raised an eyebrow, a bit incredulous by the bird’s size, “That is sure a one, big raven. Even with that size, you better watch out for the cats. And make sure your wyvern behaves itself. The untrained ones are already giving us problems by threatening to eat the pegasus.”

“Don’t worry, Teach. Ravens are way smarter than people give credit. He’ll be fine. I think. Anyways, you need something?”

“The Empire noticed our movements. They are about to launch an attack from two sides very soon.”

“They sure don’t give any quarters. We didn’t get much time to organize ourselves and we didn’t send our messengers to eastern Faerghus yet. But, oh well, that won’t happen unless we push them back. Just give me a few minutes and I’ll be ready.”

“Alright, we’ll wait for you in the cardinal room, second floor.”

Byleth left the room while Claude was preparing himself and then he closed the window. Once outside the building, Ikkar flew away. When the Leader raised his head to see where he was going, he was probably going to check on Dimitri. At this point he couldn’t even guess what he could be doing at this time. Perhaps he was sleeping and about to wake up, perhaps he spent the entire day chanting his mantra and stayed that way. But one thing was sure: he wasn’t having a good time.

* * *

_Taken by the souls, either of the divine or the departed,_

_They imprison him, hide him away and even take away his Time and his heart._

_Oh caged demon, how longer will you keep clawing the ground?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Those who follow Joe probably already know about Ikkar. He won't be 100% in character in this fanfic, but I will try my best. You see, I am using the ravens that follow Dimitri as an excuse to add this good bird-boy.
> 
> And for those who don't know, Ikkar is Joe Zieja's DnD character (Cleric Aarakocra) in a campaign (Shattered Crowns) he is currently playing with other streamers (MoonMoon, Ster, Bahroo and Octopimp). His Dungeon Master is Arcadum and you can see the sessions in Twitch, and he already uploaded Season 1 in youtube.  
> If you want to see any episode, just search Shattered Crowns in youtube for Season 1, or Twitch for Season 2 included.  
> And they stream on Sundays 9pm cst, in case you want to catch them roleplaying. 
> 
> And a little suggestion in case you need a good laugh. Watch Episode 3 of Season 2, because is the episode where the group massively screw things up with a single fireball. A fireball that ruined the campaign (And the DM needed two weeks to make a new one) and other campaigns as well. I laughed so hard to the point I cried. To give you an idea, one of the streamers already made a suggestion to change the campaign's name to "Shattered Clowns", that is just how chaotic that scene was. I can confidently say that they will be remembered by that scene. And also, you don't really need context to understand the scene. I fact, I think the less context the better.
> 
> ...And yes, Ikkar is quite short, shorter than Edelgard in fact. Aarakocra have an average height of 5ft (152 cm). Claude is a head taller than Ikkar.


	8. Dreadful Immortal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The army successfully pulls the Empire back from Garreg Mach, but Claude witnesses something that could make other people shit themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Claude just keeps pinching himself to make sure he isn't going bananas. The lad got good reasons to do so.
> 
> And some feels at the end.

The situation wasn’t dire. Even if about to be assaulted from two sides, from the Dukedom via Gaspard and from their territory via Varley, the Empire didn’t even send demonic beasts, they were extremely confident in their victory. However, that is because they don’t know Byleth returned and the Moon Demon is their ally. Although calling Dimitri an “ally” isn’t an accurate way to describe his relationship with the united forces of the Knights of Seiros and Leicester, they just have a common enemy and they merely tolerate the other’s presence to some extent.

They didn’t have much time, let alone troops, to divide their defences. This is why Claude had a rather crazy proposal: send the Alliance and the Knights of Seiros to deal with the forces attacking from Gaspard and he would deal with the forces attacking from Varley alone with Dimitri. From personal experience, Byleth agreed as foolish as it sounds and if anything, things would be easier that way, because the army will be glad to be away from the monster, and the monster will be glad to be away from those who may get in his way of killing.

Ikkar came in flying from the door and landed on the table in front of Claude, cawing rather loudly, “Something happened, boy?”

The raven kept cawing and flapping his wings and then began to peck a piece of paper. The people looked at the bird confused, not knowing why it was here or why he was cawing at the Leader. Claude handed Ikkar a piece of paper and a pen, he took it with its beak and began to write to the people’s surprise. Although the calligraphy was rather poor –as expected from an animal– it was fairly readable nonetheless, it said ‘ _black man going south_ ’, which was pretty much saying that Dimitri –who is wearing black armour– was already going to engage the troops from the south. The madman pretty much decided for Claude, something he couldn’t complain. But before they began to prepare themselves for battle, Claude took out from his pocket a scroll sealed with the Crest of Riegan. Everyone looked at him, because they knew that scroll wasn’t any scroll, it meant serious business. The Leader placed the scroll in front of Ikkar, “Listen little guy, could you do favour for me? Could you take this very important message to the Shield of Faerghus for us?”

If the raven’s capability to write a few words left them impressed, then Claude asking a bird to deliver a very important message left them with a gaping mouth. Nearly everyone Hanneman, Manuela, Lorenz and even Hilda, questioned _why_. Sure, they need the support from the eastern lords, but they aren’t THAT desperate to use an animal who didn’t know better as a messenger. The only ones who didn’t questioned him were Seteth and Byleth, mainly because they are not as human as they appear to be and they can sense the big raven’s true nature to some extent. Because of his ‘recent’ fusion with the Goddess, Byleth can sense the raven’s weirdness on a ‘spiritual’ level and he trusted Claude’s judgement of choosing Ikkar as a fast messenger given how much both are trying to play it cool. Seteth, on the other hand, has been around Fódlan for a long time in human terms, so he was rather quick to see through Ikkar’s disguise; when the two looked at the other’s eye they recognized that they are just trying to blend into human society for survival sake and they knew it would be best if they kept their mouth –and beak– shut.

Ikkar spent a good amount of time with Dimitri. In fact, he was attracted by him when he witnessed the lunar halo; the bird-man knew the event wasn’t a natural one and after a few days of searching him, he stayed with him ever since. So, he already went to the duke’s residence two years ago, when the prince paid Felix a visit in his sleep and gifted him his tear before he went to “borrow” from them the armour he is currently wearing. And of course, the bird-man remembers the young swordsman and the duke very well, so he knows to whom he must deliver the scroll. The problem is that no one knows that Ikkar knows, so in order to feign ignorance he first looked at the scroll, then looked back and Claude and tilted his head as if saying ‘I don’t know where the fuck I must go, you big dummy.’

The man took some moments to realize he just made friend with Ikkar a few hours ago and he actually doesn’t know shit about him other than being a bird-man. Scratching his head, he now understood why the raven was looking at him completely clueless and then asked for a map of Fódlan. He pointed the location of Fraldarius territory and Ikkar feigning ‘understanding’ where he must to go, he cawed and picked up the scroll with his beak. Everyone watched the big raven fly away to make his delivery completely incredulous… except for those who knew about his true identity.

As they prepared themselves as fast as they could, Byleth went towards Claude, just in case he changed opinion, “Are you sure about this? Don’t you need someone else with you? Like Hilda or perhaps Raphael to help you?”

“Don’t worry about me, Teach. One of the reasons why I insisted to go with him is because people wouldn’t be able to stomach the way he kills. You haven’t seen it yet because when we fought together he was in a hurry, so he wasn’t as ruthless as he was when the two of us saved the villagers last night,” Claude pulled out a few arrows from his quiver and then pulled out a small vial from one of his pockets. Opening the vial, he carefully let some colourless drops on the arrowheads, “the other reason is because the army will sure benefit better from your… ‘guidance’.”

“I see. Still, be careful out there. Don’t go ahead of yourself just because we both know what Dimitri is ‘capable’ of. That means higher are the chances that they’ll go after you instead of him,” after seeing how Claude was preparing himself, he asked just in case, “…You want us to capture a prisoner as well?”

“If you can capture the commander, then do it. I just want to ask some questions and I doubt the soldiers would know the kind of information I want to know. I’ll try my best because I doubt Dimitri would want to take prisoners, he would rather kill them all. That’s why I’ll need more than one arrow to knock him down, assuming his body is affected by it of course.”

“I understand, but remember very well Dimitri’s condition: do not give him more reasons to distrust us. At the mere attempt of poisoning him, if the Empire isn’t going to kill you then he definitely will.”

“I know, I know… I have them prepared as a last resort, in case things spiral out of control.”

Without the need to exchange more words, they both went on their ways to defend Garreg Mach. Claude didn’t know Dimitri’s physical conditions given his sleep deprivation and although his performance last night was rather brutal, his movements were still rather unpolished and more brutish strength than anything, any good fighter could see how sloppy he is. So, he wasted no time and quickly scouted the south to get sight of the attackers.

He should have guessed it, he was intercepted by pegasus knights. To make things worse, they also had bows at hand other than their usual weapons. Of course the Empire had to adapt in order to fight troublesome enemies that could snipe them from afar, on big flying lizards no less. A simple solution to a simple problem.

Although wyverns have a better body to manoeuvre in the sky, numbers can still overwhelm and the rider can really limit the beast’s movements. Claude knew about it and he could sense it, his loyal steed really wanted to do some moves but it couldn’t as it could endanger its rider. As much as he wanted to get down and fight on his feet, he still didn’t know too much about the situation down there as he didn’t have much of an opportunity to look and analyse.

From below an ice-shaped javelin impaled one of the Pegasus riders, striking it down from the sky. This caught pretty much everyone by surprise, as no one has ever seen it until now. Claude just guessed it was Dimitri, but he wondered how. As far as he knew, he is pretty adept in lightning spells and his magic pool is rather poor… and even though he has seen some ice spells such as Fimbulvetr, he never saw an ice spike that impaled their target and he doesn’t know how much magic it consumes.

Finally deciding diving down to give more freedom to his wyvern, Claude managed to spot Dimitri, who already kill a small group of scouts on his own while the real deal awaited far behind, marching towards the monastery. The prince was looking right at him and extending his arm, another ice spike appeared. With a firm grasp and aiming high, he threw it and with great speed that gave no time to react, ending another rider’s life. Good thing Dimitri is on his side because that projectile is something that not even his wyvern was prepared to dodge.

The big lizard was still unwilling to move near the madman, so it landed several feets away from him. It flew away as soon as its rider got off, ready to deal with the Pegasus riders by itself. Claude’s harsh training on the Alliance’s wyverns was something new to Fódlan and actually a common type of training in Almyra. Wyverns always fight each other but not to the death, and their training with humans comes with being pursued for prolonged times dodging arrows and other wyverns while manoeuvring in the sky. Almyra’s wyverns are used to fight creatures of their size or smaller and their people befriended them, not domesticated them; Fódlan’s wyverns, on the other hand, are raised in order to obey their master’s command and they are used to fight the fearsome demonic beasts that roam the land. Because of this should an Almyran’s wyvern fight a Fódlan’s wyvern, then the former would win but when it comes to fight demonic beasts, then the later will survive and potentially even kill it if they are in groups. But thanks to Claude’s Almyran training masqueraded as a ‘ _wyvern is a powerful beast that can fight on its own and their natural prowess should not be supressed in order to be just a rider’s mount’_ , the Alliance’s big lizards became a fearsome power to be reckoned with. And the Leader’s wyvern’s head has quite a prize, that’s just how formidable this particular creature is and arguably more dangerous than the rider himself, having more bodycounts than the archer.

However, as deadly as Claude’s wyvern is, if it’s still afraid of the prince to the point of being unable to move towards him willingly, that should be more than a fair warning to anyone that wants to engage him. Dimitri’s pupil was a vertical slit, that of a beast or perhaps a demon… if it wasn't for its unusual colour that made it hard to deem him as such. Instead of the usual black it was white. And it was then he realized: the prince looks exactly as he saw him in his dream during his nap, tendrils of light sprouting from his shoulders and back and the empty right socket being pure white surrounded with cracks, as if the moon’s light resided within. Yet again, Claude pinches himself, and yes it hurt. Given how things are turning, he expected to pinch himself quite a lot in the future.

On their way to intercept the bigger wave, mangled corpses of pegasus and their riders fell from the sky occasionally, proof of the wyvern’s rough training. Soon the ground was to be decorated with their comrades, and another feast for the ravens. But however, it seemed this time some food was meant to be cooked. As soon as they sighted the enemy, Claude could see lightning surging from the prince’s body and with a powerful stomp, for some ungodly reason, it travelled through earth and killed a few soldiers, roasting them alive. Some of them looked surprised, but they pressed on and prepared themselves to attack. Dimitri readied another ice spike and threw towards what seemed to be the general. He blocked it with his great axe, leaving only diamond dust.

Claude couldn’t see it, but the enemy could, a nasty smile on the prince’s face. Without any regard of anything, he charged towards them, ignoring the arrows that were shot at him. Some of them were deflected by his armour or by Claude’s arrows, others missed and a very few managed to hit him, but Dimitri didn’t finch one bit. The commander dropped his axe and readied himself to take the impact, leaving his soldiers confused. If he was to stop the lance from impaling him, then he was good as dead as he could never hope to match the prince’s strength. However, when about to take the hit, he briefly step aside and grabbed the shaft, redirecting the hit towards to the ground in order to avoid the soldier behind him being stabbed. The impact was so strong that it left a crater and all nearby soldiers lost their balance. Dimitri laughed and head-butted the general, and alongside Claude they gave no quarters, killing first the soldiers that were staggered by the impact.

The general, almost feeling insulted for being completely ignored, came back to his senses and engaged the unarmed prince and gave the order to surround Claude. But neither of them was going to make it easy. Dimitri kept ignoring the commander, who kept getting in his way, tearing apart any soldier that tried to get past him with his bare hands. The very few that got past him were quickly shot down by the archer. However, some of them ignored the order and focused on the prince after they began to notice his disordered moves, some of them almost gave the impression he was about to fall to his knees and faint from exhaustion. If they managed to get him first, then getting Claude was going to be easier, though the real problem was his wyvern.

Slowly but surely they were getting him, piercing him through the already damaged armour and once they surrounded him completely, another group moved on to surround Claude. He was running out of ammunition and looked up to see how his wyvern was faring. Fairly good, it was almost done with the pegasus knights, so it was ready to return to him at any time. In order to save his remaining arrows, he unsheathed his sword. At first the soldiers thought he was easy to engage at close combat, thinking that he was inexperienced with the blade. But they were quick to learn the hard way he wasn’t. He was fast, even faster than Felix, and his attacks were more about precision that brute force compared to the prince. He was even able to dodge and attack at the same time. He is as good with the blade as he is with the bow; after all Byleth is the one who thought him. However, he body began to fell dull after a small cut.

Seeing its master in distress, the wyvern dived and landed right next to him, using its tail and wings to push the enemies away. Claude took the opportunity to drink one of the antidotes; he is always prepared, after all poisons are something he is fond of. At first it made effect, but something felt wrong. Either it was a special poison or his antidote wasn’t good enough. As his wyvern protected him, Claude focused, trying to understand what is happening. Although magic wasn’t exactly his specialty, he could sense it somehow: this poison has magic properties, something that Hubert would definitely do, but how he managed to make it, let alone coming with that idea, is something that definitely shouldn’t be taken lightly. Even if the antidote lessened the poison’s effects, the magic lingered in his body, weakening and draining his energy.

If these soldiers’ weapons were poisoned, then Dimitri was in trouble too given how sloppy his movement became and soon he was on his knees, pierced by several spears as if he was a pincushion, not that different when he was found in the Goddess’s Tower.

“Shit… Dimitri! Almath!” Claude called out of his wyvern –a big female lizard –, pleading her to swatch the prince away from the enemies despite her fears towards him. For some reason, however, she couldn’t. The archer could see she was trying to fly, but was unable to do so. Then he saw some her wing’s wounds, she was poisoned too. Taking care of the remaining soldiers from his part, he quickly feed her one of his lasts antidotes. Even though she was still unable to fly, the lizard at least could at least fight on the ground. The problem is that she didn’t deal with all the pegasus knights, though very few remained. They weren’t attacking them, however. They returned to the army, landing among them, as if they considered the fight over.

Knowing what they are about to do, Claude desperately tried to shot down the general, but his arrow was deflected by a knight’s shield. He already saw him survive impossible things, but there is no way he could survive _that_. He hopelessly watched as the general raised his great axe above his head like an executioner.

“This is all for those you have killed, you accursed demon!” The general spitted as much as poison as he could muster.

Dimitri chuckled, his head hanging down, waiting, “You really accuse me for killing those who willingly went to war, in order to die to it? Don’t make me laugh…”

“Shut up… SHUT UP!” The general lowered his weapon with all his might, tearing though the prince’s neck. The man panted as the prince’s lifeless beheaded body finally fell on the ground, completely defeated. After a long sigh, the general composed himself, “prepare the ropes to restrain the wyvern, the Alliance’s Leader is going down with his steed at least.”

All it took was a magical imbued poison to get the Moon Demon on his knees, and the typical answer to a thing that doesn’t want to die: just chop his head off, get rid of the brain. Claude looked in disbelief; he was frozen in shock, looking at Dimitri’s corpse. The light tendrils disappeared, perhaps a sign he was gone for real this time. His wyvern growled at the coming enemies as a warning: she would tear them apart should they come any closer, but they paid no attention.

However, the tendrils began to surge again from the body. This time Claude didn’t know what the hell is happening. The soldier’s that were watching over the prince’s body fell on their butts as they looked in horror. The body got up despite the circumstances. He grabbed two soldiers by their necks and effortlessly snapped them. He kept killing despite having lost his head and despite the poison affecting his body. When the others turned around to see what was happening, some of them dropped their weapons and laughed briefly. The general rally them and shouted to literally tear him to pieces. If losing his head wasn’t enough, then by chopping him to pieces so he could no longer do anything else other than be, it would be enough. If his hands were to crawl with the hopes of choking someone to death, then impaling it to the ground would be enough.

Now that the leader was distracted, Claude took one of his poisoned arrows and shoot at one of the armour’s joint, bypassing the protection. The man fell to his knees as the poison began to spread quickly through his body. It wasn’t painful, it was just leaving him very lethargic and unable to do anything, he had no choice but to watch his men being slaughtered by the beheaded prince and the other group being ripped apart by the weakened wyvern.

When most enemies were taken care of, the body walked towards the head, picking it up and getting himself together. After his neck began to spasm, Dimitri warped his hands around it as if trying to keep the area under control. After a long sigh, he let go of his neck. There was only a superficial wound that soon turned white like his empty cracked eyesocket. At this point the few remaining enemies were completely hopeless and without any regard of their general, they tried to run away. But it was pointless, the prince spared no one other than the general.

It seemed Dimitri wanted a payback, grabbing a sword from the ground as he slowly moved towards him. Ice fumes left his mouth, almost looking as if he was drooling, excited to behead the one who beheaded him. He bared his teeth as he opened his jaw, a good amount of coldness froze the grass around him as he walked.

“Wait, Dimitri, don’t…!” Claude also moved towards the enemy general despite being hindered by the magical poison. His wyvern still didn’t want to get any close though. He wasn’t fast enough, the prince reached way before he did. He readied himself to stab right at the general’s neck. Claude readied another of his poisoned arrows and prepared himself to shot his arm.

His wyvern roared, followed by a girl’s scream. A young girl came in running, intercepting the finishing blow. The prince, completely shocked, stopped right before he could pierce her, the blade barely puncturing her. The archer was also surprised, of how a little girl managed to find the courage to stand before Dimitri, of how this man stopped just in time to avoid killing her. Given he has a soft spot for children –especially orphans– it seems this extends to the enemies’ children as well. Although the girl isn’t exactly a child, that didn’t stop the prince from not killing her.

“S-stay back! If you touch my big brother, I’ll… I’ll kill you!” The little girl was holding a dagger with both hands. Her entire body was shaking terribly, especially her arms and her legs, but her love towards her family outweighed her fear.

“Fleche? What are you doing here?! Run!” The general’s breaths were heavy as he talked.

Claude could see Dimitri’s arm was shaking, made very evident by the blade. Frustrated, he lowered his weapon. Everyone was stunned at the mere fact he somehow surrendered to a little girl. But then he suddenly grabbed Fleche by her wrists. She squirmed, but it was impossible for her to free herself from his grasp, the prince was immobile like stone. But he was being uncharacteristic gentle with her; if anything, she made it painful to herself by wriggling around.

“You monster…! Let her go! Shit…!” The general tried to get up in vain. He hopelessly watched his little sister in distress. His heart was slamming against his chest, he felt it was about to burst out. The death of his men was enough, but this? He couldn’t take it.

He wasn’t the only one uncomfortable with the situation. Even if Dimitri didn’t seem wanting to harm her, Claude was very unsure if he should shoot. The prince kneeled before Fleche and she immediately stopped moving out of fear. To everyone’s surprise, he slowly started to move her arms towards his chest, forcing the dagger she was still holding through a cracked part of his armour, piercing him –specifically his heart– completely. Dimitri let her go as he grunted in pain and Fleche stepped back as soon as she was free, looking at the man that just pretty much forced her to stab him, her dagger still stuck in his chest.

Without saying anything, Claude walked towards them and knocked them out with a well-placed hit at the back of their heads and sighed. As the prince pulled out the dagger, the Leader grabbed his last antidote and handled it to Dimitri, who placed his hand con his wrist, lowering his arm, rejecting his offer.

Remembering what Manuela said about possible delusions, it makes sense thinking it may be poison, so he tried to reassure him, “This is an antidote, Dimitri. They used magical imbued poison against us, so it won’t remove it completely. Until we get to Manuela and the healers, we’ll have to endure it.”

“Poison?” The prince looked at him rather puzzled, as if being the first time hearing that word.

“Umm… yeah. You know, the substance that is harmful to us,” they looked at the other for a short time, “Are you telling me you are immune to toxins?”

The prince shrugged slightly. It was hard to tell if he didn’t know, he wasn’t aware they used poison or he is truly immune to the point he didn’t care enough to pay attention. He looked at the dagger and then looked at Claude, “…You have been poisoned?”

Claude was rather… baffled at such a question. He just said that they used poison against them so it was more than clear he too was poisoned. But given how big of a mess his mind is, it’s really hard to tell if he understands his surroundings and what he is thinking other than hate, revenge and mourn; so, the archer had no problem to clarify things, “Yes, me and my friend over there. But don’t worry about us, we have already taken the antidote. What about you, are you feeling alright?” Given he just wiped out the remaining soldiers without a head and pulled himself back together like nothing, he is indeed ‘alright’.

He didn’t answer. He just stared at him as if not understanding his question. He looked at the dagger and then looked back at him again. Claude had an idea of what was coming and when Dimitri whispered ‘I’m sorry…’ he didn’t like it one bit. He quickly stepped away from him as he let go of his antidote and quickly grabbed one of his poisoned arrows out of instinct and muscle memory towards any possible danger. The arrow went to the prince’s neck, right at the scar, and the dagger went deep in the archer’s chest, piercing yet another heart.

Both of them grunted in pain and soon they both lost their strength, but the prince still stood strong and warped his free arm around Claude, gently lowering him on the ground before pulling out the dagger. Witnessing her master being attacked, the wyvern furiously charged towards him, maw wide open. Dimitri quickly grabbed one of the archer’s arrows and prepared himself to receive the beast’s impact. Even if weakened, he was still able to wrestle the big lizard, holding on her snout and stopping her. Then he stabbed her palate, the poison took effect as quick as it did with him. Slowly the wyvern fell on the ground, using her remaining strength to curl around Claude and covering him with one of her wings. She growled as the prince approached them. The three of them were severely wounded and poisoned and still, Dimitri gently pet her snout and the archer looked at him.

When the beast calmed down, the prince bent over Claude, with light in his hand and placed it on his wound. “Fear not. You will see the Great Spirits of Old from beyond, the Unfathomable realm. The source of all things that be, even the Young Spirit this land’s people worship. You can see the outcome of my offering: the Moon’s sight. Now go.”

Claude was puzzled at the prince’s somewhat cryptic words. That didn’t sound anything like him at all. The only thing he could somewhat understood was the last sentence. ‘The Moon’s sight’ being the result of his offering, his eye; since his empty socket shines like moonlight, it made sense. But the fact he said that ‘he can see’, it means that not anyone can see light of his eye apparently. Now, when it came to the rest… it was hard to understand what he meant. He didn’t have much time to think about it. He was exhausted and his eyelids grew heavy even though his head felt light. If this was like his dream and if Ikkar’s words were to be trusted, something good and bad was bound to happen to him if he kept associating himself with Dimitri. The bad thing already happened it seems, apparently he got himself killed, but what about the good thing? Was it perhaps in his own words, to “see the Great Spirits of Old” from the “Unfathomable realm”? In his homeland they revere the nature’s spirits rather than giving credit to a singular individual in Fódlan. He thought, perhaps, to take his words and succumbed to exhaustion.

He couldn’t tell if he was dreaming, for his heart was just pierced. Even though Dimitri seemed to be healing him before he lost consciousness, his magic and healing capabilities are rather sketchy. Regardless of that, it didn’t stop Claude from awakening in a weird and impossible place.

From his understanding, he was above the clouds, specifically standing on them. The winds howled as he walked, high and low whistles rang loud around him, as if whispering to him, “▂▃▅▅▃▃”.

He couldn’t understand. For him, it was a mere wind’s whistle, “▃▃▃▅▃”, it became more insistent and still, he couldn’t understand. Soon some clouds began to rise, curling around Claude. Lightning surged from within, some hitting the Leader, but it didn’t hurt. He felt as if he was within the eye of the Storm. ‘ _Of course it doesn’t hurt, so this has to be a dream, right?_ ’ he thought. Some of the stormy clouds moved onto him, through the wound that Dimitri left before he fell unconscious. He jumped backwards, part of him because the very prospect was very weird to him, the other was pure instinct because… well, a stormy cloud inside his body, even in a dream? If it was in real life, he would have been shocked to death. But by the spirits he believes in, if this was yet another foreshadowing of what could happen, just like when Dimitri sank his entire hand into his heart…

“▅▆▅▅▆▇▅ ▅▂▅▃▆▇▆ ▅▃▂▅▅▃▃▂▂▂”, Claude now could understand the ideas the Storm is trying to impart even though the mere sound is still unfathomable to ears without insight. It said the prince gifted to him his blood… or rather, awaked a hidden power within him. They are kin; distant family, but still family nonetheless. And when he manifested his Crest, the minor Crest of Riegan appeared, but along with it, a major Crest of Blaiddyd.

“▂▃▅▅▃▃▇▇ ▅▃▃▂ ▇▅▅▅▃▃▃▅▅▃▃▂▂▂▅▅▂▂▂”, and to be informed of what Dimitri just did to him, the Storm also gifted the archer with his blessing and he was offered two options: be his Envoy to retaliate against the prideful ones, or not. It made it clear it won’t punish him should he reject it. However, Claude still lacked _a lot_ of information, “▅▅▆▇▇▅▅▃▆▆ ▇▇▅▃▃▂▆▆▇”

It will be revealed should he rescue one of their kin’s children from the Empire. And for that, he would have the help of the Moon’s Envoy and the Inheritor of their murdered kin. Even still, the archer had his doubts and accepting the otherworldly presence's offer always comes with a catch, or so he thought, like making a deal with the devil. However, Claude was free to reject its offer and walk away without suffering any consequence. It’s what the Storm transmitted to him after all.

“▅▅▇▃▃▃▂ ▆▆▇▇▇▇▃▃▂▆▆”, the reason why it offer him the choice is to be able to resist the power of the Moon’s Envoy should he lash out because of his unstable mind, “▆▆▇▇▇▇▇▃▃▆▆▆▂▂”, for he was blessed by the Old Ruler of Stars, the second old spirit behind the Stoic One. Even with the power of the Inheritor of their murdered kin they could lose, they couldn’t resist him.

“Before I make my decision, you won’t claim my soul or anything the like when my moment comes if I were to accept, right?” a fair point. If he was being honest, that’s what stories told by humans tend to paint these otherworldly beings. For some reason, they tempt mortals into their servitude for rather selfish reasons or for their own amusement. This one, however, seems to have reasonable reasons to do so. It seems it cares about his safety enough to grant him a gift and he wants him to get rid of “the prideful ones” for some reasons. Regardless of the situation, it’s a win-win for both of them, why should Claude reject the Storm’s offer?

“▇▇▅▅▆▆▃▂▂ ▆▆▃▃▂▂▂▂”, no, it wouldn’t. It is not interesting in taking souls. It has no reason to do so. And if fact, if he wants for his gift to be lifted from him, he was free to ask the Storm and he would take it away, as it knew he wouldn’t enjoy outliving his friends. From what Claude understood… yeah, it makes him immortal like the Moon’s gift on Dimitri, it makes sense why the prince didn’t give a shit losing his head. Sure, it is very convenient for Claude. He wouldn’t die, but he would scare the shit out of his friends and perhaps give people more reason to shun him. He couldn’t afford that.

“Then… I will accept. But I will avoid using your gifts more than necessary. I don’t want to make more enemies than I already have,” the clouds curled even closer to him, their whistling sounding subdued, compliant, even. Then they gathered in front of him and began to change forms until it took the form that resembles a bow. The weapon awaited him and he took it. Faint lightning surged from the weapon, it didn’t hurt and by his will alone it disappeared. And it didn’t end there; his wyvern surged from under the clouds, confused. Upon sighing him, she flew towards him, happy to see him safe and sound. The clouds too warped around her and the lizard began to panic. She calmed down when Claude said she didn’t have to be afraid. It grew larger and after a few moments, it disappeared. The wyvern was transformed into a mighty one, her scales were now light grey, or perhaps ashen. Her horns were completely different; they were bigger, way bigger, they looked almost exactly like the horns that depict the Golder Deer House. And her size was bigger than before. She could even match most demonic beasts.

The lizard looked herself confused of her new form as the clouds returned from they were initially, being this place’s floor. However, now there was the night sky, dotted with countless stars. A beautiful sight for Claude and when he sighed the crying or bleeding Moon, he looked down. Of course he would be there, the Moon’s Envoy staring the very spirit that gifted him its sight, almost looking as if basking in its light. To his surprise, his wyvern didn’t turn aggressive towards him despite of what he had done to them. When asked if she was willing to go near him, she complied, picking him up and flying towards the prince.

He didn’t react to their arriving. And now they were closer they could see them, up to their torso, spectral skeleton surging from the clouds, hanging on the prince’s legs. Unlike the other time, however, they didn’t look hateful but rather desperate. Now his words were different, “The darkness is here and there. Within him and her, and me, why care? Endless like the cosmos dotted by your kin and those who left this world unburdened. Listen to their sorrows and regrets as I weep with them…”

It almost sounded like he was speaking to the Moon. In response it began to shine brightly and a chiming sound resonated, almost like a musical tone. They began to hear them, faint whispers obscured by the chiming sounds. Dimitri closed his eye and hanged his head low, whimpering with them as he just said.

“▅▃▃▃▃▂▅▅▃▃▂▂▂▂▂▂”, no wonder the Moon answered his call, as its kin are sympathetic. Should anyone call upon them, they would answer. But they were forgotten in Fódlan, they could help no one if no one called upon them. But the circumstances are different. This time both the Moon and the Storm, as perhaps even others, were empathetic towards him as they both lost a beloved kin in what they perceived as a betrayal. And the Storm was the one who reached upon Claude instead the other way around.

“▆▆▆▆▃▃▃▃▅▇▇▇▇ ▂▂▂▂▃▆▆▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▅▅▂▂▂▃▃▃▇▇▇”, Dimitri’s gaping hole and wounds, once –and already– bleached by the paleblue light of utmost revelation, he will forever see the insight drawn by the Great Spirit of Old. When he closed his eyes, he saw darkness, or perhaps nothingness, and that is where he saw for the first time the Old Ruler of Stars, the Moon.

And he asked why, why them they choose them, “▆▆▆▇▇▇▃▃▃▂▂▂▂▅▅▅▅▃ ▂▂▂▃▅▅▅▅▃▃▂▂▂▂▂▂ ▆▆▆▇▇▇▇▃▃▃▃▅▅▅▂▂▂▂▂”, because the “gift” within their blood sprouted from the very misdeeds of old humanity. Things that their violated kin would rather keep secret to avoid the loss of what remained of them, to avoid another transgression they failed to prevent. And the Storm warned him: _secrets_ _are secrets for a reason and some are better off in the dark_ , something Claude can relate. But the people of Fódlan are suffering and if the secrets must be exposed into the light to end it, then it’s high time for someone to expose the whole charade. He already witnessed Dimitri. There is evidence and supported by the prince himself of the atrocities the Empire does to their people. Was there possibly anything worse than that?

He woke up in the infirmary. Processing what he just dreamt, he opened the palm of his hand and tried to visualize the bow made of storm clouds. Even in a room, it materialized and he quickly unmade it.

“…Claude?” a familiar voice called him. It seems he was not quick enough for someone to see what he just did. But if it was him, then it’s fine.

“Teach… you didn’t see that, did you?” although he fancies himself as a sneaky man, Byleth sure is sneakier than him given how silent the man is. He nodded, “I see… I suppose I have no other option but to tell you, have I? No, it’s not that I have to tell you, you _must_ know it.”

And so, he told him everything the Storm told him, its intentions and the one who blessed Dimitri, the Moon. That didn’t surprise him. The bigger surprise to him, however, is that he is related to the prince as he now has a Major Crest of Blaiddyd, or rather, it was revealed or it awakened within his blood. Claude wasn’t still sure though and to confirm that Hanneman’s room was right there, it would take them no time. Trying to get up, he was still rather weakened and then he remembered, “I almost forgot. The Empire somehow managed to create magical poison, did you have any problems on your side?”

“Luckily we had Manuela to get rid of them. You, Dimitri and your wyvern are fine. And don’t worry about the prisoners, we already took care of them. When you are ready to interrogate them, I’ll accompany you,” he said as he helped Claude to get of his feet.

“I see. Thanks, Teach. I had my questions, and I still have them. But now knowing what they used against us, I got more even more questions, and I hope that man has the information.”

It was Byleth’s hope too. Magic poison was unheard of and if the Empire managed to create it, then they would be able to do more things with magic alone. Though he doubted a mere warrior could know such a thing. Perhaps he didn’t even know, perhaps his men were given poison without knowing its true nature or their weapons were poisoned without their knowledge.

Setting aside that issue, they went to Hanneman’s office and Claude stepped into the device. Once it read his information, he stepped aside. Just as he said, his own Crest and then the one that just awakened in his blood, the Crest of Blaiddyd. Coincidentally the old man walked in there and saw it, “Claude, by the Goddess! You bear two Crests! But… how? And when?” he was amazed.

Well, another witness. Though telling him that he and the prince may be related wouldn’t hurt him; of course, omitted the part of the god’s gifts and that sort of things. He told him what he wants to know.

The old man’s eyes lighten up, “My, well, it seems I should search immediately for Blaiddyd and Riegan’s family tree to see when it happened,” he turned around and continued to speak for himself, “a person who bears two Crests was unheard of and I always wondered if such a thing is possible if someone descends from two with different Crests. But then again, the catalyst to awaken the hidden Crest required blood. Hmmm…,” he then turned around again to face Claude and Byleth, with a more serious look, “Listen, this should better stay between us, okay? We don’t want nobles to shed blood to see if they have a hidden Crest or worse, to see if they have one. I am sure some doesn’t want more trouble than they have already caused, alright?”

They both nodded. And really, he didn’t need to say it twice. With everything being said, Hanneman quickly left the room towards the library. Although it was quite late, time didn’t mean anything if it was for his passion. As for them, they went on their ways to their beds. The day was a though one.

* * *

The next day, early in the morning, Ikkar reached his destination. The duke was already awake and preparing himself to start the day. He landed right in front of the window and gave it a few pecks. It got his attention and seeing the scroll in his beak, he opened the window to let him in. Ikkar flew in and landed on his desk.

“I remember you. You are the same big raven from two years ago, right?” Ikkar didn’t expect the duke to remember him just because he is a big raven. Nevertheless, Rodrigue scratched him on the side of his head and he leaned in, like a cat that yearns for cuddles. Then, he handled the scroll to him, “Let’s see what we have here…,” when he saw the scroll’s seal, his expression changed. He knew this was an important one. And as he began to read it, his feelings began to mix. He composed himself and after a long sigh, he looked at Ikkar again, “I thank you for bringing this to us. Now, the Leader of the Alliance sure expects an answer. However, this will take some time. I am sure the others will want to hear the news, especially those who are close to His Highness.”

Rodrigue quickly grabbed parchments and a pen and began to work on it. Ikkar simply sat next to him, watching him write and the duke curiously watched him for a moment before the bird gave him a small peck on his hand, as if saying ‘ _keep writing, don’t mind me_.’ Rodrigue chuckled and kept writing. For him, this was important and time is of the essence.

Two letters were addressed specifically to the children of Gautier and Galatea given the close friendship they share with the prince. And the last one… he wrote that House Fraldarius will support them and that he would personally aid them in their war, providing them with troops and supplies. He sealed the scroll with the Crest of Fraldarius and handled it to Ikkar, “Here. Make sure it reaches the Alliance’s Leader’s eyes.”

Ikkar flew right in front of the window, waiting for the duke to open it for him, “Make haste, friend. Let them know they’re not alone,” as soon as he did the big raven flew away with the scroll.

Once he prepared himself, he quickly went to prepare messengers to deliver his letters.

“What’s so important you need two messengers?” Felix asked as soon as they made their leave.

“It’s especially important for you, Felix. His Highness is alive. The letter the Alliance’s Leader sent mentions his mental state being too deplorable, and he needs help. That’s why I send a letter to Sylvain and Ingrid specifically.”

“Are you serious, old man? Are you going to believe him? What if it’s a trap?”

He knew it wasn’t. It wasn’t hard for him to believe he is alive, let alone in shitty conditions. Last time he saw him, two years ago, he was half-way through it. He never told Rodrigue about that night nor did he show him the azure lazurite the prince gave him. He just wanted to sound sceptical, as is something he would do if that night didn't happen.

“I know you have your reasons to distrust him and I can’t deny your reasoning too. However, I would rather risk myself rather than abandon Dimitri for sceptical reasons. Besides, I made a promise to his late Majesty long ago, that’s why I must go.”

He hated him so much, because part of their reasoning is so alike. Even if he didn’t have the stone, he too would have done the same without thinking twice, regardless of what could possibly happen. But he hates how his father claims to fulfil a promise he made with someone who is now dead. The dead are dead, they don’t care what others think or what they do in their name and anything done for them is nothing more than a cheap excuse, or an act of self-righteousness, “Ughh… that’s enough! I’ll go too. But make no mistake; I’ll do it for him, not for the sake of your promise,” he has to make sure the old man helps him for _his_ sake, not for some hollow and pretentious promises to the dead.

“I see,” Rodrigue chuckled, “That is more than enough. I understand your sentiment, but I hope one day you’ll understand too. …Felix, before we go, can you promise me something?” his son looked at him rather annoyed, but it seems he was willing to listen, “Don’t die before I do.”

Felix’s expression changed. He didn’t see it coming, “What the hell is this about? You are talking as if you’re going to die.”

“Listen. We are going to fight back. Until then, we have always been on the defensive. You know that from now on our battles are going to be rougher. And I know you’ll willingly risk yourself for the sake of your friends, just like Glenn did. That’s why I want you to promise me, don’t die before I do.”

“What, are you telling me not to die to avoid saying that ‘I died like a true knight’?”

“I am sorry. I shouldn’t have said those words back then. You were young to understand. …If I ever regretted or rejected for his choices, it would have been an insult to his memory. It was the only thing I could think of to cope with his death.”

Felix punched him on the stomach. Rodrigue didn’t hesitate to take it. It was hard for both of them to take what it is said and done, “Don’t apologize. Don’t you fucking dare! It’s too late for that!” In time he understood what he meant by those words, thanks to Ingrid, that is. He hated how he worded it, as if he died for ‘the greater service’, not caring for his son at all. And if he was being honest, he hated himself for even questioning his death, because that would have meant he questioned his choices, his beliefs, it would have been an insult to everything he lived for, even if it meant his death. And now their ideals align, no wonder he is hurt by Rodrigue’s words.

“I know, Felix, I know… to deny part of what you live for… you are right to hate me. But… listen to me. We already lost Glenn. We buried his armour, so please… I don’t want to bury you. I don’t think I could accept the death of both of my sons. No matter the circumstances, it isn't right for a father to bury their own child, it’s just isn't right… it should be the other way around.”

“Enough! That’s enough! If you don’t shut up, I’ll… I’ll…!” He couldn’t continue, a knot formed in his throat, his words couldn’t leave his mouth and his sight became glassy. He hated himself more than ever, he had been too absorbed in his own pain and hatred towards his father’s attitude he couldn’t see how hurt he was too, let alone how his own death would actually affect him. It’s not like he was that different from him. He too buried his pain from everyone, even from his friends, with his sharp tongue instead.

“It’s alright, Felix. You don’t need to say anything else.” He hugged Felix and held him tight. He didn’t fight back. That exchange felt as if a great burden has been lifted, he now could feel he could be honest with him and returned the hug. They didn’t need to say anything else. As much as Rodrigue wanted to die before Felix does, it’s not like he would allow it just like that.

* * *

_He is angry, because war ravaged the land and his shattered mind could no longer cope;_

_He is hurt, because the people of the land have been living in such sorrow and pain;_

_He is lost, because he lived among the dead long enough to forget the living._

_Woe betide his fate-wrecked heart_

_That brought its blood-struck mind to him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dimitri losing his head? Just another day for him.


	9. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot of things are learned: some nasty shit is learned and some divine shit is learned, especially the divine shit.
> 
> And just as he suspected and made evident with by second crest, Claude is indeed related to Dimitri after all. Distant family, but still family nonetheless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I blame Fall Guys for taking me a long time writting this. Also the fucking stye in my right eye to the point I couldn't open it.

Claude was surprised by some familiar faces. It seems Byleth didn’t tell him last night given what they discussed was more important. Although they couldn’t capture the commander on their side, they got something way better.

Ashe joined their ranks. During the clash when he saw a lot of familiar faces, his resolve wavered for a long time. It was then when Gwendal, the commander leading the attack, told him to do so even if it meant abandoning the Dukedom. The Gray Lion told him the greater betrayal would be not living up to his ideals; Ashe wouldn’t be honest with himself if he kept going walking this path. Even if it hurt him, he switched sides alongside some soldiers from the Dukedom who also shared his beliefs and sentiments.

Linhardt also joined their ranks, followed by Caspar. The green-haired mage was offered by the Imperial mages an opportunity to learn new things related to Crests. But he soon regretted it. They spared him the gruesome details and Linhardt, sickened by the nature of these researches, waited for an opportunity to leave the Empire, but not without telling Caspar what they were doing to the people of Faerghus and Leicester. When they were instructed to take part of the group that would retake Garreg Mach from the alliance between Leicester and the Knights of Seiros, that’s when they decided they would join them. But before they did, they saw Ashe’s group switching sides, which made the Empire, who was fighting alongside the Dukedom, attack the Gray Lion and his men. Things quickly spiralled out of control when the Alliance, the Knights of Seiros and the deserters tried to save the Gwendal’s faction from the Adrestia. The Gray Lion and his men kept attacking their enemy despite their intentions, while not retaliating against the Empire at all. While Linhardt was confused of the whole situation, Caspar was quick to switch sides and start beating the shit out of the imperials. In the end, the green-haired mage joined his friends, because is what he wanted in the first place. Even if the alliance between Leicester, the Knights of Seiros and the deserters routed out the imperial group, the Gray Lion forced their hand and they were wiped out as well.

It wasn’t hard to wonder why Ashe in particular was left with a heavy heart after the encounter and not even reuniting with his professor and a small talk lessened the burden. And if anything, after being told of about the prince’s conditions, his mood went worse.

Knowing the nature of the situation is something that Hanneman simply has little knowledge or opinion about, Seteth felt compelled to give Ashe some words of advice, until Catherine stepped in.

“I see you are still troubled of what happened yesterday.”

“I am, yes. Is just… I don’t understand. Lord Gwendal knew better and yet…!”

“It’s was his choice. We have to accept it, whenever we like or not. The moment we regret his decision, it would be an insult to his memory.”

“Even if it wasn’t the right thing to do?”

“Remember what I said to you five years ago: it’s up to you to decide what is right and what is wrong, because everyone thinks different. You will always be wrong in the eyes of someone else, or your ideals just don’t align well enough with the other. That is why it’s inevitable we’ll end up clashing, is just a matter of when,” as she continued to speak, there was a clear tone of sadness in her voice, “trust me when I say it never gets easy when the time comes, no matter how many times it happens.”

“I see… I suppose that things will only get harder from now on. Thank you, Catherine. I mean it.”

“I’m glad I was able to help. If you ever need something, I’m all ears.”

“I will keep that in mind. Thank you again.”

The green-haired man sure knows Catherine did a better job than him when it comes to guide the young ones and granted, she was the one who could do better than anyone else, because they are both knights. Their ideals may not align at all, but she too found herself in a difficult situation in the past and learned the hard way how part of the world works… or at least how humans partially work. Beasts hardly fight each other for their ideals or beliefs or morality for the matter.

Because of what Catherine did, Seteth felt he has to give some words of advice to the prince and feared how he might react, given they are not exactly close to the other. But he cared about him, because he reminded him of what he once was in the past, and he wanted to prevent Dimitri from keeping walking that path before it’s too late. Although almost everyone could say he is already too deep and beyond redemption, Seteth could sense the prince restrained himself despite his deep hatred towards the enemy, and his hesitation to kill Fleche was a rather small proof.

When he went to see him in the Goddess’s tower, the conditions he found him were… a bit more alarming. The prince was facing one of the walls, slowly banging his head against it. There was fresh blood right where he hit his head and it flowed down all the way to the ground, leaving a small poll of blood right on his feet. He has been doing it for a long time, perhaps since he returned from their last fight yesterday. Perhaps this is better than stabbing himself with the weapon that is lying down next to him, but still, this is still not right.

Seteth could tolerate his other attitudes to some extent, this was unacceptable. When he stopped the prince from harming himself, his shining blue eye quickly fixed itself on him. His vertical white pupil went wide for a second before narrowing again. He saw right through him.

“What do you want, Child of the Stars?”

“I just want to talk with you.”

“Then you choose the wrong person to have chit chat.”

“I do not wish for a chit chat. I want to talk about personal matters, if you allow it,” he waited for an answer, but the prince just looked at him dead in the eye. He didn’t say anything. Seteth took his silence as an approval since he didn’t exactly deny it, “It’s about your quest for vengeance.”

Dimitri bared his teeth. His visible cold breaths made Seteth shiver. He was a bit intimidated, especially when he is the Earth Dragon; the prince could just freeze him to death with his breath if he were to do it like dragons do. For now he didn’t seem feeling doing it. He didn’t know if Dimitri is capable in the first place, but the threat is there and it was very real.

“Once in the past I too was consumed by revenge, just like you do,” upon listening to those words, the prince seemed to have calmed down, but he still frowned at him, “and I achieved it. But… it was not worth it. Because of my recklessness, I disregarded what was left of my family. I lost my wife and Flayn was gravely injured because I was too blinded in my hatred.”

“And what are you going to do? Tell me to stop? You really think you are in position to do so after what you have done?”

“Trying to stop you would be hypocrite from my part, but as someone who once walked the same path of vengeance… I want you to ponder well, lest it lead you unto greater remorse.”

Dimitri left a broken laugh, “As if I couldn’t carry more regrets; I am used to it. Unlike you, a monster like me has nothing left to lose.”

“You are wrong. You are better and you have more than you realize. You are just in denial.”

Dimitri kept laughing for straight a minute and half way the line between his laugh and his cry became blurred, making it difficult to tell his true feelings, “They don’t know, but _he_ does… what I truly am. And once they know, there will be nothing left for me but my wretched life, and _he_ will be the end of me…”

The prince kept laughing, or perhaps crying, and continued to bang his head against the wall. Seteth grabbed him by the shoulder with one hand, stopping Dimitri from hurting himself further, and placed his other hand in his forehead, healing his wound. Strangely enough, he didn’t resist. He allowed Seteth to heal him and once done, he let out a relieved sigh and fell to the ground, hanging his head down completely defeated. At this point, Seteth didn’t know what to do; he was probably one of the least indicated ones to give some physical comfort, especially after the exchange they had that perhaps worsened the prince’s mood. But still, he tried some words of comfort, he placed his hand on his shoulder again and said reassuringly, “Please, do not give up on yourself, because some us didn’t – Flayn and I are one of them.”

When about to leave he decided to take away the lance just in case. Then he heard some ravens. He turned around to see if one of them was Ikkar, but no, just regular ravens that came in flying, landing on Dimitri’s fur, one of them even landing on top of his head. Seteth didn’t know if the prince was fond of the ravens, but he sure didn’t seem to mind their company.

Overall, the day was “normal” so to speak. The fact that Caspar and Linhardt joined them meant that Claude and Byleth didn’t have to interrogate the prisoners they have taken. They could just go and ask them anything they know about the Empire. The other downside is that the prisoners were going to have one big boring time. Of course, the army couldn’t afford to let them go, especially if it was someone who managed to lead battalions that managed to take down Dimitri and decapitate him personally. Good thing he had the Moon’s gift that pretty much made him immortal, otherwise Claude was the next and the war could have ended there. And now that the Leader has the Storm’s gift… yeah, trying to “kill” him is going to be difficult, especially with his big wyvern.

Luckily for them, it wasn’t hard to find their new members; Linhardt being in the library and Caspar in the training grounds, they were both called to the Black Eagler’s classroom. There, Claude and Byleth waited for them. The Leader was the one to start the talk, “First, I want to thank you both for joining us. You have no idea how much it means. With this, I won’t have to resort anything deplorable to make the prisoners talk. And above all, we won’t need to face each other.”

“Same here,” Linhardt said with his rather indifferent tone. He really didn’t change that much during the war, “at first I thought opposing Edelgard was going to be troublesome but after seeing what those mages are doing… honestly, it’s more troublesome fighting on her side rather than opposing her.”

“Aha! That’s what I wanted to ask you about,” the Leader said, “let’s just start with something simple. They used poison against us, something that Hubert would definitely do. However, I could sense traces of magic within it. And again, that is something I can totally see him doing; I think we all know he is cold, calculating and not afraid to get his hands dirty, but he is no innovator. That’s why wanted to ask you, who developed these magical poisons?”

“And it’s not that it was imbued with any kind of magic,” Bylet added, “its dark magic we are talking about; its lingering effects are quite evident. So far, we have seen only Hubert and Lysithea using them outside the mages in black robes.”

“Good thing I was invited to learn their magic and everything they were investigating when I was still in Adrestia,” Linhardt began to explain, “at first I was interested because of their researches in Crests, but after seeing their magic, I was drawn by that too. And as interesting dark magic is, it’s not my thing; you know, hurting people. But I digress. Answering your question, no; Hubert wasn’t the one who came up with the idea. The mages in black developed them and he decided to go with it.”

“I see. And since you were invited to learn and see their works, did you had the chance to see how they created them?” as someone who is rather fond of their use, Claude was rather curious to know how they are made.

“No, but what I could see was them testing said poisons on the prisoners they took from both Faerghus and Leicester. The result is just awful, I just couldn’t stomach it. And as you said, Byleth, the dark magic’s lingering effects are quite evident, which makes it extremely powerful and deadly when combined with poisons… or perhaps it’s the other way around, who knows. It’s just a matter of minutes before it rots your flesh and bones to black matter to hasten its effects.”

“We should let the healers know about it and that it should be prioritized. And thanks for telling us what they do with the people they kidnap,” sometimes Claude wished he didn’t knew what they do with the people they kidnap. To think they first tested them in his and the prince’s people… and he wondered if Crests were the reason why their flesh and bones didn’t rot so quickly in a few minutes, because he guessed it took the army a fair amount of time to get them back to the monastery. And he wondered if the Storm decided to grant its gift to his wyvern too, because she too was poisoned. Perhaps it was a combination of Crests and the gifts that protected them from the poison and the lingering dark magic.

“It’s not just that!” Caspar quickly intervened yelling, “the way they treat them is just deplorable! But at least they make sure to comfort the women who lost their families to the war.”

“Caspar, do you really think women are taken to be ‘comforted’?” Linhardt sounded very incredulous, but then again, the warrior is certainly clueless on that aspect.

“Yeaaah, about that. I wouldn’t say these women are ‘comforted’ with their consent,” Claude tried his best to explain him. Judging by Dimitri’s words, ‘comfort’ is clearly a cover up to the awful things they do; and it clearly worked on Caspar. Given how easily manipulated the masses can be, it wouldn’t be surprising to see a lot of them believing that excuse.

“What? Who wouldn’t want to be comfort after losing their families and homes?” Caspar really sounded confused.

“No. They force themselves on them. It’s not really a hard guess when you are the victim,” this time the archer tried to be a bit more direct on what they do, but still, the warrior was as clueless as ever.

Linhardt sighed, “Its ok, Caspar. All you have to know is that women are not treated as good as you think; nope, not in the slightest. Anyway, is there something else you want to know about those mages?”

“Hey, if you wanna talk about magic, I’m out of here. I am a warrior, not some weak-ass mage,” as much as he wanted to help, Caspar could hardly grasp anything in this conversation and understandably, he was rather exasperated because of it.

“Haha, you are right. I kind of forgot about that. And actually, I would like to see you later still, to see if you could help me to ‘persuade’ the prisoners to join us. With you and Lindhardt here, I don’t need to interrogate them, but this is war, I hope you understand that we can’t let them go.”

“Gotcha. …Look, it’s not that everyone in the Empire knows that these things happen. I am sure if I tell the prisoners about it, they’ll join us in a heartbeat!”

“I hope they do,” Claude chuckled, amused of how sure of himself Caspar is; but his optimism about it is welcome nonetheless. Once the warrior left the room, returned his gaze on Lindhardt, “very well then, onto the next question. Have you seen how do they loo–”

He was interrupted when Lysithea walked in, “Umm… Claude, Byleth, do you mind if I join in? I just couldn’t help it after hearing you talk, but I didn’t feel sure to talk about it with Caspar around.”

“Sure, come in,” Claude gestured the seat Caspar used, “your knowledge about magic will be useful here; anything to counter their dark magic.”

“Actually, it’s not exactly about that, but I think you’ll find it useful nonetheless. And there is a reason why I don’t feel comfortable with Caspar around. I am sure he would tell everyone when I don’t want to,” as she said those words, Lysithea looked at Linhardt and he looked at her in return. They both knew very well what she was talking about and he nodded at her reassuringly, “it’s about some of the experiments they have been doing over these years. It’s not that they have been doing it recently. It goes way before we started studying together at Garreg Mach.”

“Lysithea, don’t tell that you…” Byleth said rather disheartened.

“Yes… I was once one of their tests subjects,” the young noble-woman’s tone and expression turned gloomy, “I believe you know that House Ordelia was at one time being controlled by people from the Empire, eighteen years ago. During that time, those mages you speak about came and experimented on all the youth within my family.”

“Then Dimitri wasn’t lying when he said to me my people and his are kidnapped in order to become test subjects, and other awful things…”

“To think they just keep experimenting on anything they get their hands on… they didn’t change after all these years. While I was one of their test subjects, they'd been doing things with my blood. All the other children died, I alone survived the whole ordeal, and one morning, I awoke like this – a shock of white hair, all trace of pigment, gone. Upon seeing me, the mages were delighted. They realized that their experiments had finally succeeded. The purpose was to implant a Crest on me, and it turned out they implanted two of them: a minor Crest of Charon and a major Crest of Gloucester.”

Upon hearing that, Claude now understood why Hanneman was rather excited to see he possess two Crests, which both of them seem to be a “natural” cause. All that Dimitri just did was to “awaken” part of the blood that was dormant within him by using his own.

“And losing pigment from my hair wasn't the only loss. The mages informed me that my lifespan was now greatly shortened. Five more years at most; perhaps even less,” silence followed. Byleth and Claude couldn’t believe that these kind of things happened even before the war began, however, there was something reassuring about that despite of how horrific it was, “The point is, this happened even _before_ Edelgard assumed the throne. They have been doing this for a long time. That’s why I assume that a lot of things they do, they do it independently from the Empire. Well… that is my hope at least.”

Upon hearing her thoughts, it made Claude remember something that happened five years ago, “Does this remind you of something, Teach?”

“The incident in Remire; Solon said it was possible by using Flayn’s blood and if Edelgard knew what they had planned to do with it, she would have stopped them.”

“Exactly! It’s safe to assume these awful things happen without her knowledge or consent, just as Lysithea said. And it seems they are rather fond of using blood.”

“That’s why I couldn’t stand watching them work,” Linhardt began to look rather pale, but he felt better after shaking his head, “that is one of the reasons why I decided to leave. Another reason is the treatment the prisoners get. Even if Edelgard manages to win the war and then focus on improving Fódlan, it won’t change the fact that these awful things happened, with or without her knowledge or consent. There is no need to guess that the people of Faerghus and Leicester will remain quite resentful towards Adrestia.”

As much as perhaps he thinks he is justified on winning the war by using the Empire’s awful tactics and treatment to the prisoners as an excuse, Claude also thinks that he is still contributing to their suffering, namely by prolonging said war and fighting back instead of surrender to end things quickly. Some say the quickest way of ending a war is to lose it… and the problem is that no one wants to lose. But if such a thing where to happen, he wondered what would become of Dimitri. With no one seemingly being capable of killing him properly, he would haunt Fódlan until Edelgard’s head is detached from her shoulders, or until Adrestia is no more.

“And is there a reason for you to join us? I am sure you had better options other than this,” Byleth said.

“Yes, I could have chosen just not to learn from them and keep it chill with the Empire. But well, Caspar was rather infuriated with the whole situation and he was wondering whenever leave the military or not. I did wonder for a brief time, I wasn’t sure at first. But when I saw Haneman and Manuela fighting on your side… that’s when I made up my mind.”

“I see. You wanted to return to the side of a fellow Crest Scholar and your former professor.”

“That is correct. But that’s still not the whole reason. For one, you already know do not feel very comfortable in hurting people; returning to Manuela’s side and yours, so that I may keep training supportive and healing magic, it suits me better and you know it. The second is that I wanted to keep searching with Hanneman for a way to help Lysithea with her condition.”

“Wait, you want to help… me?” the young noble sounded rather surprised by such a statement because prior to that, Linhardt was rather apathetic towards her, mainly because she didn’t told him about what she went through, but still he kind of disregards her feelings when it comes of having two Crests, “But how you know it’s even possible?”

“I’ve made researches in the past, there's no record of anyone being born with two Crests so far. And you said it yourself: they implanted two Crests on you,” as Linhardt began to explain, Claude rolled his eyes, trying to play dumb, “therefore, if the possibility to implant Crests on people exist, then the opposite sure must exist as well; at least those who aren’t a natural occurrence of course. In fact, Hanneman and I started searching about this topic before the war began.”

As much as Claude tried to keep secrecy about the fact he now has two Crests, he still was rather curious to hear his assumptions on how possible it is to be a natural occurrence. And so, he dared to speak about it, “Yeah… about that Linhardt. Teach and professor Hanneman already know and I think it would be rude if I keep from you. Would you believe me if I told you I too have two Crests and they are somewhat natural?”

“Now… that is interesting,” while Linhardt was indeed surprised, Lysithea, on the other hand, was speechless, “since when you have two Crests? To everyone’s knowledge, you only have a minor Crest of Riegan. What is the other Crest you bear? When you came to possess it?”

“A major Crest of Blaiddyd. You know, while you were fighting the Gray Lion, I was fighting alongside Dimitri against the other army trying to attack Garreg Mach. Long story short, apparently his blood awakened or revealed that Crest within me, or something among the line.”

“His blood, you say. Hmmm… that is still hard to believe, unless we investigate either of your lineages; only then, I think that may be a possibility, yes.”

Almost as if speaking of the devil, Hanneman came in rather excited after looking for them everywhere, with Ashe at his side, “Claude! I got some important news! Would you mind to come with me for a moment? Oh, I see you are in the middle of something.”

As much as the Leader wanted to know more about how he and Dimitri were connected in one way or another, he was rather surprised to see Ashe, especially since he was having a hard day for what happened yesterday on his side of the defence of Garreg Mach, “its ok, professor Hanneman. In fact, we were on that subject. Do you mind if we talk about it in your office? They didn’t see it just yet.”

Once they moved to the old Crest Scholar’s office, the first thing Claude did was to show both of his Crests using the device.

“Then it’s true… you are related to His Highness after all,” Ashe said with a mix of happiness and astonishment.

“I suppose that’s why you are here. Did you manage to discover something?”

“Yes. When I saw professor Hanneman searching about Blaiddyd’s lineage… well, he kind of had to tell me about your secret and so, I was glad to help. Luckily, there is one tale that somewhat delves into it. It’s Luna Knight; she's from an offshoot of House Blaiddyd and marries into House Riegan after the Crescent Moon War.”

“That’s interesting. You think Dimitri knows? Because… well, his blood was the ‘catalyst’ of some sorts. I feel he just had to know it for him to grant me his blood _after_ the fight.”

“I suppose he knows? I mean, it’s not like the tale of Luna Knight is little known by the people of Faerghus. Perhaps not many people pay much attention to that detail because as far as history goes, none of Riegan’s lineage was born with Blaiddyd’s Crest after Luna Knight got married.”

“I see, I suppose you are right. …Still, I find it hard to believe, even though we have very solid proofs.”

“Speaking of which, I know I shouldn’t jump to conclusions but Claude, try making some daily checks on yourself,” Lysithea gestured her own hair, “we are not sure you won’t have repercussions.”

“I will keep that in mind. Thanks for your concern. As for the matter, I will ask all of you to keep all of this quiet, alright? One of the reason is because I don’t want to be dragged into political issues should people know that I am distantly related to the royal family of Faerghus. The other one–”

“Oh, don’t worry about me,” Linhardt was rather quick to point out the other reason, “should people know that perhaps taking the blood of someone related to them that bears a Crest will awaken said Crest within them, then things will get bloody and is the last thing I want; especially when any distant relative of me could potentially come after my blood. Please everyone; keep this a secret, thank you so much.”

Claude was rather amused by the young scholar’s words; still, it was very reassuring. Good thing that the Leader spared him the details of how he actually got Dimitri’s blood. Really, first the prince is stabbed –or rather, he forces Fleche to stab his heart– and when he pulls the dagger out, he then stabs Claude’s heart, a direct way to send the blood right to the pulsing organ. If Linhardt heard the whole story, he would have definitely fainted right on the spot.

“I… um… well, I didn’t know that having a Crest could bring that kind of problems, or any kind of problems for the matter,” Ashe tried to say his part, “but I now can understand how things could turn if everyone knows it, especially the political part. So, don’t worry Claude, your secret is safe with me.”

Although Lysithea didn’t say anything about the matter because Ashe wasn’t there when she explained the horrific events she suffered, let alone the fact she too has two Crests, Claude knew he could trust her. After all it is natural for them to keep the other’s secret for themselves. As for Byleth and Hanneman, they already knew.

Still, the old man chuckled, “Now I am beginning to understand why a lot of knowledge is held for a time before they are revealed. Those who make discoveries often keep them for themselves to avoid negative persecutions, either towards society or themselves. I hope that now you understand why people tend to keep secrets; while some of them may be selfish about it, there are times they do it for the good of the others… or because they cannot face or accept said secrets.”

Oh… how little did Hanneman know of how strong his words hit the Leader. The Storm’s words to him dug even deeper than before: _secrets are secrets for a reason and some of them are better off in the dark_.

With everything being said, everyone went on their ways, but Claude and Byleth went to get Caspar and as they expected, he was again in the training grounds. After they told him they were done discussing about “magic and shit”, they were now prepared to try and persuade the prisoners to join their cause.

Luckily for the prisoners, Garreg Mach didn’t have dungeons or a place for “questionable use”, such as torture rooms and interrogation, but that didn’t stop them from still doing questionable things, such as executing the members of the Western Church. Although later it was found that the Western Church were quite corrupt and tried to overthrow Rhea multiple times by using scapegoats, no one felt bad for them afterwards.

The prisoners were locked in the cardinal’s room. And compared the treatment that most prisoners got during history, or at least of what documents describe –killed or enslaved, or forced to make dangerous, unhealthy and/or degrading work, anything that they would find deplorable–, what they got is hospitality of sorts. Even though they did take away the general’s armour, it’s not like they took away his and his little sister’s dignity. As said before, it’s almost as if they were treated as guests… just that they were tied to their chair. That was all.

Upon entering the room, the general gasped at the sight of Caspar, but the blue-haired warrior was clueless, until the prisoner spoke, “Caspar?! What are you doing here?”

“Wait a sec… Uncle Randolf?! What are YOU doing here?” the young warrior asked –a stupid question– after taking his time trying to remember his step-uncle.

“Brother, who is he?” The girl asked quietly, not understanding the situation.

“Fleche, this is Caspar. He is the second son of Count Bergliez. He is, on other words, your step-nephew.”

The family looked at each other rather awkwardly, a situation that made Byleth and Claude feel out of place. After a few moments, they looked at each other and then nodded. They walked towards the prisoners and began to untie them.

“Why?” Randolf was confused.

“It’s just not right to for a family reunion to be like this,” Claude said as he kept untying the ropes, “…I see they were really careful of not tying you too tight, your blood flow is quite fine. Aaaand… done.”

As the prisoners began to move their arms in relief, both Claude and Byleth had the wild idea to leave them alone. The three of them pretty much questioned this, but the Leader was rather quick to hush them, “We really don’t belong to this family reunion. As long as you don’t cause any trouble, you are free to do as you wish… other than leaving the monastery,” Claude waved his hand and together with Byleth they left them alone.

On their way out, Ikkar return as a big raven with a scroll in its beak and seeing it, Seteth walked towards them. Since the cardinal’s room was occupied, the green-haired man suggested going to the terrace, since he wanted to discuss something important to them.

It was the first time both Byleth and Claude visited the place and because no one was there, Seteth kind of encouraged Ikkar to reveal himself, “since the third floor is mostly reserved for the Archbishop, it is safe for you to show yourself here.”

At first the big raven looked rather unsure and after looking at everyone, the three of them pretty much were aware of his disguise, and Claude specifically knows his true form. After some moments, he then complied and changed to his man-bird form, “Well, well. It’s been quite a while since I last spoke with someone who is not human.”

“You sound like… him?” Byleth asked rather surprised. Judging by Seteth’s face, he too was rather surprised.

“Oh, that. Well, you see,” he then changed to Dimitri’s rough voice, catching them off-guard, “my kin and any creature that doesn’t look human that is capable of speech are quickly put down, so I spent most of my life in my animal form,” he then changed to Claude’s voice, “to the point I forgot my original voice, so all I do is mimic any voice I am familiar with. And his voice is the one I feel the most comfortable with.”

“Hey, speaking of which, what are you? Who are your kin?” Claude kind of just remembered that despite knowing his true identity, he still doesn't know shit about Ikkar.

“Ah, I never told you. It won’t harm me telling you about my kin. I am an aarakocra, a race of birdfolk as you can see. We used to have cousins, the kenku, who were like us but they lacked wings. Sadly, humans wiped them out. The sole reason we managed to survive was because of our wings, all we had to do is to escape to lands that humans couldn’t reach by feet. And when they began to tame flying beasts such as pegasus and wyverns, we had to learn how to take the form of a bird that matches our feathers, such as falcons, eagles, ravens, vultures, even parrots. At some point, it kind of became a part of our identity. We can change form as naturally as it is for you to breathe.”

“I don’t understand. Why humans wiped your cousins and then tried to wipe your kin?” for Byleth, it made no sense; he just couldn't grasp any of it. But Ikkar’s situation is something that Seteth can relate. Although Claude could grasp his situation to some degree, he wasn’t aware of how problematic actually is.

“Did you hear what I said before? Humans don’t like any other creature capable of speech that doesn’t look like them. I am capable of speech and I don’t look human,” he then changed to Dimitri’s voice again, “So, I am deemed a mere beast that tries to imitate humans and I should be put down, because apparently an animal that ‘tries to imitate anything human’ is an insult.”

“That’s… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he changed again to Claude’s voice, “You did nothing wrong. Besides, you are quite fine with me, so, no hard feelings here. Anyways, there are more important things to do other than telling you about my kin,” he then handled Rodrigue’s scroll to Claude.

Focusing on the reason of why they were here in the first place, Claude began to read the letter. It put them at ease knowing that they at least have the support of one of the eastern lord of Faerghus, especially when Rodrigue is going to personally aid them alongside his son and the Scions of Gautier and Galatea. And the fact began the preparations as soon as he got his letter, it meant they there were going to be here in matter of days.

Now, setting that matter aside, Claude knew there was some explaining he needed to say. He then looked at Seteth. He now could sense on a spiritual level that the green-haired man is not as human as he appears to be, and he too could sense that something changed within the archer.

“So… I am sure you can sense it. Right, Seteth?” he said.

“I do,” he said as he moved away the hair that concealed his pointy ears, “and as you can sense, I am not what you think I am. However I will ask for your patience. While I do have my secrets, Rhea is the one who you are looking for, and even she keeps secrets from me. It will be revealed once we rescue her… assuming she is alive.”

“Spilling out your secrets wasn’t the reason of why you suggested this place to talk, then.”

“That’s right. All I will say to you is that this form is just a mere guise to blend within human society, and I lost my ability to turn back after spending a long time in this form. That’s why…” he then looked at Byleth, “I know that my request will sound… unpleasant.”

“I suppose it’s up to me to decide if it’s unpleasant or not until you speak,” he said.

“I need to drink some of your blood.”

“…What?” Claude and Ikkar said in unison, both of them rather shocked. Although it surprised Byleth, it wasn’t nearly as bad as the other two.

“I will be brief on this. The one who gifted you her powers is the one who also created my kin. Since you inherited the powers and the identity of our creator, it also means you now inherited her blood as well. Just a single drop will be enough to reignite my dormant powers.”

“You want to use your powers to fight the Empire?” he didn’t even question his request. All the wants to know is for what purpose is he going to use it.

“No. I want to use you to protect you from the prince,” he saw they were a bit baffled at his statement, “I know that we agreed to help him, but we don’t know how his mind works. Right now he is not in the best conditions to fight, and even still he is more than capable to get the best of me with my full power. But if he were at his peak… he is more than a match to kill our creator.”

Claude looked at Byleth to see how he would react. He was understandably worried and is something that both of them had their fair amount of guess as well, especially Ikkar and the archer. They already saw what Dimitri is capable of with his strength alone in a constant weakened state. He was able to wrestle Almath, a powerful wyvern, despite he was apparently poisoned twice. He is not affected by Divine Pulse, so Byleth can’t really go back in time to rectify any possible mistake in relation to Dimitri.

So far everyone saw only physical prowess and some magical prowess, which are leagues stronger from what he was five years ago; they didn’t see any powers related to the Moon yet, other than the apparent omniscient during the night. If Seteth, the one who claims to be one of the Goddess’s creations –in other words, one of her children–, says that Dimitri at his peak is more than able to kill a deity, then the Storm’s warning was no joke: “ _Even with the power of_ _the Inheritor of our murdered kin is not enough._ ” The archer wondered of Seteth’s knowledge on this topic, since he seems to be damn sure about this, “just how big of a deal is the Moon? You know, to the point that one of its Envoys is capable to kill a deity… well, that sounds something you don’t really want to mess with.”

“No, no one should,” Seteth quickly clarified it, “It’s up to you whenever you believe this, but it’s what my kin knows nonetheless. The Moon alongside the Sun and the Stoic One were the firsts Spirits that managed to manifest _before_ Time itself was even conceived as a concept.”

“So, that kind of explains why Dimitri is completely unaffected by the Divine Pulse,” Byleth said.

“The light of the Sun and the Moon are not restrained by Time and they spread through all Flows of Time. It seems that anyone whom they shared their light with is no exception. And just to give an idea of the difference between one of another, the Moon was the Old Ruler of Stars. It used to be the brightest Star in the cosmos. Although... at first there was only the Sun and the Moon, and it outshined the former.”

“That’s kind of hard to believe. But then again, every culture has their own interpretation of how things came to be or how our cosmology works in the first place,” Claude scratched the back of his head, “and... never mind. What do you mean it ‘used’ to be the brightest star in the cosmos? I do recall the Storm telling me the Moon being the Old Ruler of Stars, so I take the Sun is the current Ruler of Stars.”

“You are right. As far as my kin is aware of, the Chaotic Spirits, oft known as Demons by humans, once threatened this world and those who inhabited it. The Moon exhausted most of its power to damage the Divine Core of the strongest Chaotic Spirits, weakening them considerably as a whole. The result was losing most of its light and nearly its entire warm, and the Sun was the one who outshined the Moon. The Stars you see at night are just remnants of its former glory. Our creator is the second brightest Star in the night sky, therefore, the strongest remnant. Make a comparison and make your own conclusions.”

“Assuming everything its true, then the difference is quite… yeah. Big.”

Even if weakened, the difference between the Moon and the Stars are quite considerable. And as Claude said, assuming that Seteth’s tale is correct, the Moon is essentially the one who created the Stars. So in a way Seteth is one of the Moon’s grandchildren. If Dimitri called him “Child of the Stars”, then apparently he is way more aware than his insanity lets on.

“That is why I want to ask again for your blood, Byleth. I know my strength may not be much of use compared to the one you bear, but I still want to use them to keep everyone safe as best as I can,” Seteth bowed before him, waiting for an answer.

Without saying anything, he extended his left arm and rolled up his sleeve, revealing his wrist. Then he pulled out the dagger he always carried with himself and made a small cut, blood slowly drawing out from the wound, “Here,” it was all that he said.

Gently, Seteth took his wrist and lapped onto the wound. All it took was a single slurp.

He instantly felt a flow of power coursing over his body. And it was something they felt as well. Claude and Byleth in particular felt a booming sound coming from unknown places, to the point it made their ears shiver.

The archer whistled, “Well, that was quite something. It sure felt that you got tons of power. Now that I recall, does Flayn know anything of this?”

“No, and I think she would have been against it because it could endanger us,” he began to say as he healed the wound with his magic, “There is a reason of why we tried to conceal our identities, to avoid from our blood to be used for ill as you have seen in Remire village five years ago. I know that I am doing the exact opposite, but I am willing to take the risk.”

A small surge of light bathed Ikkar, “I hope I am not forced to show myself if such a thing were to happen; you sure sound as if you were into something really dangerous,” he began to smoke his pipe and then exhaled some smoke, “but well, who am I to stop you.”

“If Flayn were to make the same request, what would you think?” Byleth asked, “knowing her, I doubt she would like to return to her true form, not especially after her blood was used for vile reasons. But still, the possibility is always there.”

“Your assumptions are right. She loathes violence and is very unlikely she would ask for your blood to be able to return to her true form. But hers is specifically to heal and support those she considers her allies. If something were to push her on the edge… that is ultimately her decision. I will accept it, but that doesn’t mean I will take my eyes off of her.”

“Don’t worry. We will do our best she is not taken away again.”

“Heal and support, you say,” Ikkar was very curious, then he hummed rather disappointed, “If only my true form wouldn't draw too much attention, I would like to learn from her.”

“I am sure she would enjoy your company. She likes birds after all,” he smiled at the bird-man.

“You sound as if I were _just_ a bird!” he then changed his voice, now imitating Seteth’s. He was clearly messing with him, “we are supposed to be non-human buddies striving to live in a human-centred land!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he chuckled, “I didn’t mean it in that way.”

“I know, you big dummy,” he changed back to Claude’s voice, “I am glad that I can feel at ease around someone else in my true form.”

“Is there a way for you and your kin to be accepted?” Byleth asked rather worried. Even though he couldn’t relate to anything Ikkar is going through, he could clearly sense he struggles to show himself to anyone. If his attitude and personality was a given, for him it sounded he really wants to befriend people. He just gets rejected by them because of his looks alone.

“That’s… a rather complicated matter, but thank you for your sympathy,” Ikkar sounded rather sad despite his words, “this is something my kin have been used to for a long time.”

There was a long pause. Seeing that no one had anything else to say, Claude whistled to call his wyvern.

The sound of flapping wings could be heard from quite afar and of how heavy they were, it pretty much could tell anyone of how big she was, and Ikkar, Seteth and Byleth were surprised to see the sheer size of the wyvern. She could easily occupy half of the terrace. Apparently the change she went through was after she was rescued and treated after defending Garreg Mach.

“I take it that this is the Storm's work, right? Pebbles will feel completely intimidated,” Seteth said with a clear comedic relief.

Claude chuckled as he petted Almath, happy to see her safe and sound, “Yup, it is. And you better tell Pebbles he doesn’t need to worry. Almath is a good girl, she won’t eat Pebbles just because he is the smaller wyvern,” he then climbed up.

“Where are you going?” Byleth asked as the wyvern took flight, but she hovered right in front of the terrace.

“I will go to a safe place where I can learn how to use these gifts should the time come,” Claude extended his hand and the bow made of storm clouds materialized. When he had a tight grip, lightning surged from it and he prepared himself to shoot, but he had no ammunition. But the lightning took the form of an arrow and Claude shot right next to Byleth. They looked at the bolt that struck the ground, releasing sparks that could have potentially damaged those around it, “this is way more convenient than some may realize. You know, not needing to keep track of my arrows and shooting literal lightning bolts that this bow produces? That’s neat if you ask me. I just hope you and the Church won’t chastise me for not using one of the Goddess’s gifts,” he looked at Seteth.

“If another Spirit granted you a gift, then who are we to deny it from you? Do as you will, Claude,” he smiled at the wyvern rider.

The Leader returned the smiled and then nodded at them before taking his leave. As he began to fly away, Ikkar quickly took his raven form and followed him.

What awaited him was a long day a pure training of mastering the gift given to him.

* * *

_If there is a prayer for someone inside of their hearts,_

_They believe that they will forgive, no matter the mistake._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, next chapter is the turning point, though it's not gonna happen without a tough fight and angst.


	10. Paraselene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dimitri is forced to see reality in a way he just can't control in the worst way possible.  
> While it triggers his emotional outburst, it's not what ultimately urged him to kill them all, including those he loves. Angst ensues.
> 
> ...Or this is where Dimitri makes everyone taste the rainbow. And not in a homo way. Like, he literally shoots rainbows at them. Except Felix though, he has a small taste of the rainbow at the end.
> 
> Basically, Paraselene is a one hell of a nuke here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In real life, it's a bit hard to see the multi-coloured light in refracted moonlight. It's easier to see in refracted sunlight though, since the sunlight is brighter than the moonlight. It becomes evident when you compare Paraselene with Parhelion, the solar counterpart; even more evident if you compare the moon halo with the sun halo.
> 
> And also, this might just be the last chapter, I'll explain why at the end.

After their unsuccessful attack, the monastery was left quite undisturbed… in a sense the Empire didn’t try to retake the place again as the weather was quite wild. While everyone thought the weather was crazy, Seteth, Byleth and Ikkar –perhaps even Dimitri– knew Claude was the one behind it. It did not rain, not even once, but the thunderstorms and the winds were very intimidating for anyone to patrol with their pegasus and wyverns, even for anyone to enter or leave the monastery.

One might think that controlling the weather is one of Claude’s gifts. That is only half-true, for he doesn’t control the weather but the storm. And like the Moon’s gift on Dimitri, so too the Storm’s gift on Claude does grant him omniscience under the storm clouds and gives the prince blind spots during the night. If they were to fight, then Claude would definitely have the upper hand when it comes to perception and awareness.

He also learned that the storm could not only can take the form of a bow, but also any kind of weapon he wishes, from swords to axes, another to weapons he is familiar with. And he found it very convenient, for he wasted less time switching weapons. Even if it was an obvious thing, Ikkar offered himself to be struck and the shock was good enough to stun him for a few seconds, though they guessed it hit hard on him because he is just an old bird, his body built isn’t exactly the best. Nevertheless, it was good to test it.

And finally, in the middle of the training, out of nowhere Almath breathe lightning from her mouth, catching Claude and Ikkar off-guard. That’s it, it was the final touch she needed to be officially the deadliest wyvern in Fódlan and perhaps the entire world. She was already a strong wyvern, now she is bigger and now she breathes lightning from her mouth like dragons do. Claude didn’t need to guess that now people were going to fear her even more and they would think twice before engaging her… other than Dimitri, of course.

The days were “quiet” and good enough for Claude to get used to the Storm’s gift; he could have spent more time training if weren’t for the arrival of Rodrigue, something he saw coming for quite afar thanks to said gift; from 5 miles away to be more exact, since is the radius the storm clouds cover from his point. Because of this, he knew they would reach Garreg Mach in approximately in an hour at best. However, there were some battalions of pegasus knights lead by Ingrid, who were quite ahead of Rodrigue and his army. That’s why Claude felt he had to return to Garreg Mach from the highest peaks that surrounded it just to give a formal welcome.

It didn’t take too much for Ingrid and her troops to reach Garreg Mach and Claude was already waiting for them. He also called someone else to give warm up the reunion for her. When Ingrid and her warriors landed right in front of the gate, she was surprised to see a face she didn’t expect to see, “Ashe? What are you doing here? Didn’t you–?” she then sighed. It wasn’t the best way to start a reunion, “It doesn’t matter. It’s am happy to see you safe and sound.”

“Same here, Ingrid. Honestly, I never thought I would see you again,” the young archer ignored her previous comments and gave her a warm welcome.

“Sorry for my rudeness, Claude,” Ingrid gave a small bow, “I just…”

“It’s alright, Ingrid,” the Leader smiled at her.

“I will apologize again for being dismissive towards you, but there is a reason of why I went ahead of Lord Rodrigue and the others. He told us about your letter, and what it said…” there was a concerned look in her face, mixed with sadness, just as her voice, “is it true that His Highness is here? Alive?”

“Yes, he is,” he answered with an equally saddened tone, “though ‘alive’ is a bit of a stretch. It’s complicated, it’s as if he was there, but at the same time not. You’ll understand when you see him.”

“May I see him?”

“Under different circumstances, I would have teased you. You know, it’s not that I am holding him prisoner or the like. You don’t need my permission to see him.”

She nodded her head and the three of them began to walk towards the Goddess’s Tower. On their way, they walked up to Seteth, who was just coming from said place.

“It’s good to see you again, Ingrid,” he greeted the blond woman, “I guess you are going to see the prince?”

“It’s good to see you again too, Seteth,” Ingrid also gave a small bow to Seteth, “Yes, we are going to see His Highness. How is he faring?”

“Not well, I am afraid. A few days ago he was hurting himself by banging his head against the wall, and I stopped him of course. I just came from there,” he then looks at Claude, “he is now chanting his mourning mantra. So, I doubt he will even acknowledge your presence.”

“I… see. But well, it’s not that he was close to any of us. You think he will react to Ashe and Ingrid?” Claude asked.

“That is a good question. I do not know. You may as well try. I hope your presence fill him with hope, something he desperately needs.”

“We will do our best. Thank you for taking care of him.”

As they went on their way, Ingrid was a bit concerned about Ashe, “Are you alright, Ashe? You are oddly quiet.”

“I am still a bit troubled of what happened a few days ago. That’s why I didn’t have the courage to face His Highness. But with you I feel better. Don’t worry about me.”

Though she doubted his words, Ingrid decided to leave it at that. She didn’t want to push him right now when both of them had more important matters ahead.

When they entered the Goddess’s Tower, Claude went a few stepped ahead and gestured them to keep it quiet. Even though they didn’t know exactly the reason why, they did what he instructed and began to climb up the stairs quietly. The closer they were getting to the stop, the more they began to hear Dimitri’s mourning mantra, just as Seteth said. And when they reached the top, there he was… sitting right in one of the dark corners, facing the wall, giving his back to anyone who entered. There was no blood on the wall nor in the floor, which meant he didn’t hurt himself as he did a few days ago before he was stopped by Seteth.

Ingrid and Ashe’s heart nearly dropped. They just couldn’t believe it was him. What they remembered the most was his blond hair and now, it was completely pale – bleached out of stress. They really didn’t want to know how much the war affected his visage. And his armour and cloak hide the many pale scars he bears on his body.

“Listen to their sorrows and regrets as I weep with them… And bring solace to the restless souls of those who fell at Duscur and this war… Ah... solace, please…,” this time there was no hatred compared to his baneful mantra he used to say a few days ago. Perhaps it was strange for Claude to hear such a thing but at this point, he didn’t know what to expect from this man. But he could somewhat see that he wasn’t all hatred and revenge, because outside of the battlefield against the imperials he is just there on his own mourning, and perhaps even pleading for something.

And now it was the first time he saw them outside his dreams: the spectre skeletons. But unlike the first time he saw them, they weren’t on their natural size and hateful or even aggressive towards Dimitri. They were more like the second time after he accepted the Storm’s gift: small, and up to their torso, and they looked rather desperate for something. He now could hear them with clarity, their low moans. They were weeping, just as the prince is weeping with them. He could see better, some of them had their hand closed as if praying or pleading on someone as they looked at Dimirti, almost as if praying with or for him as they weep. This was nothing like the hateful spectres he saw in his first dream, these ones seemed to be quite empathetic, if they were truly weeping with the prince, or was it the other way around?

As Claude and Ingrid were walking towards him, they realized that Ashe wasn’t with them, he didn’t move from his spot. When the Leader looked back to encouraged him to get closer with saying anything, he saw there was a clear fear on the young knight’s face. He went pale for some reason, and when Ingrid also looked back to see why Ashe wasn’t with them, she said quietly, “Ashe, are you alright? You look as you saw your life flashing before your eyes.”

Ingrid thought she was quiet enough, as she took Seteth’s words seriously, that since he was chanting his mournful mantra, he wouldn’t pay attention to them even though he and Claude wondered if was to react to someone he was close with, such as herself and any other member of the Blue Lions. It turned out their guess hit the mark pretty much, because it seems Dimitri did hear Ingrid as he stopped weeping.

They began to hear some metallic sounds, the sound of the prince getting up and turning to face the familiar voice he heard. When Ingrid looked back, her heart sank. This was _not_ the man she remembered, he was but an empty shell that only hosted the voice of the dead, or perhaps he himself became a ghost, one that was wearing armour, because just as his hair his skin also lost most trace of colour. And his eyebags didn’t help a bit. Ingrid also wondered how he lost his eye, as there was barely a scar, only an ugly gaping hole in his right socket. And what she feared the most, the ugly scar on his neck; she wondered what the hell happened. Did he try to take his life? Or someone tried when he was at his weakest? Oh, little did she know the truth behind his empty socket and the scar on his neck.

Ashe fell on his butt and yelped at the sight of Dimitri. He didn’t believe it was the prince at all, just a ghost haunting the place. Although Ingrid did it find it rather disrespectful, he couldn’t blame him. She already knew the idea of ghosts scared him, and it seems it didn’t change at all during these five years. She thought Ashe was just being himself, until he mentioned things that were not there, “W-why is your right eye white? A-and the white line on your neck? And all these skeletons ghosts hanging on you?!”

Claude was surprised. He did not expect Ashe at all seeing what he could see. Why he _could_ see them? Weren’t only those who have ties to divinity being able to see these kinds of things? And much as he wanted to ponder on that –as he doubted Ashe would had any idea of what Claude knew about divinity and other fantastic things, such as Ikkar himself– he went to try to calm down the young knight, who began to breathe heavily.

“Why?” to their surprise, Dimitri spoke, “Why you are here?” he completely ignored Ashe’s questions.

“We are here for you, Your Highness,” Ingrid spoke with sadness in her voice, “is just… what happened to you?”

“DON’T!” his growl caught them off guard, even giving them a rather small jumpscare. This was something not even Claude expected, “Don’t call me that. I am no prince but a wretched monster.”

Despite his claims, no matter how much he growled or how low his voice became, there was no doubt for them this man was indeed Dimitri. Ashe was just confused. In his heart he knew this man is indeed the one he used to know, but his eyes –and his fears– pretty much was telling him he wasn’t, for nearly everything about him didn’t resembled him at all, other than his shining blue eye, “You should stay away from me.”

He really didn’t tell them to get out, but given his threatening tone, he was pretty much telling them to go away. And for the sake of Ashe’s sanity, they didn’t have other choice but to leave.

The encounter left them rather down. The idea was to try and lift his spirit but did little but to drag them down. Trying to calm Ashe, Claude said the typical excuse that he was exhausted and he started to see things, and urged him to rest, while Ingrid was free to do as she pleased, other than getting close to the Goddess’s Tower until Rodrigue and the other arrived.

It took them around an hour for them to finally reach the monastery and they were pretty much welcomed with open arms. While Rodrigue was the most anxious on seeing what became of Dimitri, Claude and Ingrid pretty much had to tell him keep it quiet for now, given that they already tried to reach to him before they came, with little results. For now, it was the best for his army to settle down and to rest for a while, especially their horses and pegasus after the long trip from Fraldarius to Garreg Mach.

During dinner Byleth, Claude, Seteth, Rodrigue and the Blue Lions pretty much ate close to the other, mainly to be filled with everything that happened before they joined in. Naturally, to hear their prince doing the ugly killing he did was heart-breaking for them, especially when Dimitri turned out to be the Moon Demon, the very rumour that ran strong in Faerghus. They found it hard to believe, especially when Ingrid and Ashe already saw what he became, until Claude said that Dimitri is rather subdued outside the battlefield, but pretty much become the very demon the rumours says once he battle begins, especially against the imperials.

They really couldn’t blame Dimitri for all the killing, for all his victims are fair game. So far, all of them are war victims as he pretty much said to Randolph before he was decapitated: those he killed were people who went to war only to die to it. Even if they really couldn’t stomach they war he killed, especially when Rodrigue and Felix already saw some of his nasty works, it was still hard to blame him knowing what the Empire does to their people, and Leicester’s. However, there was one thing that made them upset to some degree: why he didn’t come to any of them after the execution? None of them cared of the accusation of regicide, they would have listened to him regardless and they would have mostly sided with him. They just couldn’t understand.

Because of this, pretty much everyone felt they had to reach to him, and they were grateful to Claude to let them know about this. However, the Leader, Seteth, Ingrid and Ashe pretty much advised them against it for now, since the reaction he had with them today was rather negative and he wasn’t really willing to listen.

However, Felix needed to see him. Unlike other encounters, however, this time Dimitri wasn’t in the Goddess’s Tower but in front of the big rubble pile that was in the cathedral. He was just standing there, gazing at the moon through the great hole in the ceiling.

By just looking at his back, it was hard for Felix to recognize him. And if weren’t for what Claude and Byleth had told them, they wouldn’t believe this man being Dimitri. But he recognized the cloak that had the banner of Faerghus, it was one that it used to be in the manor; apparently the prince didn’t paid a visit that night just to kiss him on the forehead. And he also remembered, it made sense for him for the boar to end up paled; whenever it was a dream or not, he was half-way through it, he just a few shades away from being pale.

“Boar,” he called up to him.

Upon hearing a familiar voice and a familiar nickname, Dimitri turned to face it, “…Why?” he asked with a pained voice.

“Isn’t that obvious? I’m here for you.”

“Are you going to kill me? No… not yet. It’s too soon far that!”

“How the fuck you came with that conclusion?” Felix was really bewildered, “I am here to help you.”

“I see you want to haste my end. It doesn’t matter. The faster we get to her, the better. And they may finally rest…”

“What the fuck is wrong with your mind,” he became irritated at the boar’s words, and the implications behind it, “We are here to set things right, not for those fucking ghosts you pretend to serve.”

“Pretend to serve, you say…” the prince chuckled darkly as he glared at the swordsman, “You weren’t there,” as he talked, Felix began to feel unnerved by the ice fumes leaving his mouth, as if he was cold as the grave. He really guessed the kiss he gave him that night was real, a not a mere dream. “Of course you would say that. Of course you wouldn’t know… how they felt…”

“Listen you damn boar, you are not the only hurt here. But this isn’t about them, or the tragedy for the matter.”

“Are you saying that they no longer matter? Are you saying that I should FORGET about them?!” Dimitri’s glare intensified as he began to growl at him.

“Why you keep jumping to conclusions?” Felix really was really growing exasperated, “And yes, they no longer matter.”

“You are wrong,” for some reason the boar’s voice was rather calm, almost as if feeling betrayed by those words.

“No, I’m not. And you know why? Because they are DEAD!” as he began to speak, Dimitri covered his ears and began to shake his head, denying everything that came out from Felix’s mouth, he kept screaming ‘you are wrong!’, which made the swordsman raise his voice, to the point they began to scream at each other “They feel NOTHING! They DON’T CARE!” At this point, Dimitri’s screams grew desperate as he lowered his head, still denying Felix’s claims, but he didn’t relent at all, “And these are but FACTS! You are just pretender, using them as an excuse for your actions while you serve your damn EGO!”

“YOU ARE WROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONG!” the boar screamed loud and clear, but it wasn’t what made Felix stop. He some wild reasons, there was a small quake, as of his shout shook the very foundations of the earth. And then he swore that for a few seconds he saw the light tendrils that surged from the boar’s shoulders and his back, and partially from his arms.

Dimitri began to pant heavily, his face covered by his messy hair. And there was a hint of pain with each heavy breath, “I am fulfilling my duty as the sole survivor… trying to let them rest in peace, and you point your finger at me saying this is wrong…? I… I…” he sounded really calmed compared to his recent scream.

Claude, Byleth and Seteth came in running, with Ikkar resting on the Leader’s shoulder. And behind them, pretty much everyone, the Blue Lions and the Golden Deers, even some soldiers and clerics. Of course the small quake would have alerted them, but they would have checked all of Garreg Mach if weren’t for the commanders that felt a surge of divine power coming from the cathedral when Dimitri screamed. They knew that something or something upset him, and they just had to go to him to see what happened and everyone followed them.

And when they asked, the swordsman was speechless. Not because of how distraught the boar was, but of how his mere scream was enough to shake his eardrums and his guts to threatening levels; he thought if he shouted louder, his heart would have exploded. If he was being honest with himself, if his scream alone was enough to provoke a small quake, he really didn’t want to upset him any further even though the boar seemed to be too distressed to pose any danger.

“I hear them… loud and clear…” Dimitri began to say as he sobbed between heavy breathes. He was still covering his ears.

Almost everyone didn’t understand what he was trying to say. What they could only hear was him speaking. ‘Almost’, because Byleth, Seteth, Ashe and Lysithea could hear them, they could see them too, and that’s why the young knight was scared as he hid behind Ingrid, while the young mage hid behind Claude. They could see the small spectral skeletons on the floor, moaning and sobbing, their hands together as if they were praying or begging. They were looking at the prince as they weep with him. If Lysithea of all people was hiding behind him, he thought she was aware of the things he can see.

But out of nowhere everyone present heard a weeping child saying, ‘ _Father, forgive me…_ ’

Only Rodrigue, Felix, Ingrid and Sylvain identified that voice. It was Dimitri, but when he was a child. They didn’t understand how. The prince was right in front of them weeping, and there was no way he could change his voice to a child. That’s why Claude looked at his side to see if Ikkar had something to do, but the raven did nothing. Besides, he never heard not was with Dimitri when he was a child, so there was no way he could be mimicking his voice.

“They… are suffering right now,” the prince fell to his knees, still breathing heavily. And again they heard that voice, but this time it said ‘ _Step-mother, forgive me…_ ’, and then ‘ _Glenn, forgive me…_ ’ but then the voice changed to the youthful prince from five years ago, who was also weeping, ‘ _Dedue, forgive me…_ ’

“If I do not avenge them… their suffering will continue…” his hands left his ears and he placed them on the ground to support his body, “I am trying… I am trying so hard, but…” he desperately began to scratch the ground, leaving his mark with his clawed gauntlets, “No, no, no…!” he despaired, finally shedding tears, “No, no… I don’t want this…! Not anymore…!”

This was nothing from the ruthless beast everyone was familiar with, and for those who were close to him or already knew him, this was really hard to watch. They didn’t know what to do. Byleth, Seteth, Ashe and Lysithea saw how the spectral skeletons held onto the prince’s hands, preventing him from further clawing the ground. And they kept weeping with him.

“Father… please, listen to me…! Step-mother… please, listen to me…! Glenn… please, listen to me…! Dedue… please, listen to me…!” At this point there was a small pool of his tears, and still he kept calling out of everyone to listen to him, to the point of even calling out names that only Rodrigue knew: all the knights who also died at Duscur. And he also began to beg for the people of Duscur to listen to him.

“Why…? Why none of you are listening to me…?” He now covered his face with his hands, “Please… please… please, listen to me…”

Not everyone knew exactly what he went through, other than the Blue Lions who were trying to hold their tears, not Felix though, but he was close. He remembered seeing something similar. After the tragedy, he paid him a visit with Rodrigue. He had a very similar emotional breakdown where instead of begging to be heard, he was asking for forgiveness, just like what everyone heard before he broke down into tears.

It was then when Lorenz decided to sympathize with him, “So… is this how you truly feel? I am now starting to pity you,” despite he once despised the prince, he now sympathized with him now that he saw how he was feeling, “To think you carried the burden of that tragedy all these years… while commendable, it doesn’t mean that you should ignore the needs of your people who desperately need their king. By swearing vengeance, you are neglecting your duties as their future ruler. The living are your priority, not the dead.”

His words ring true. Killing your enemy in the middle of a war isn’t truly a transgression, and while one could argue the gruesome ways of killing is a crime, it really doesn’t matter. People will gladly point it out just to dehumanize further their enemy in order to have the moral high ground. Neglecting his duties as prince was his true misdeed, and calling himself a beast unfitting for such title was nothing but an excuse to keep disregarding said duty, no matter his feelings.

Even at his worst, Dimitri would accept such criticism. He knew Lorenz was in the right, as everyone else. But… there were some things he could not accept, no matter what. Felix denying his completely different reality was a rather small trigger. But that one sentiment was something he couldn’t accept from anyone, even those he loves. And because of that he stopped crying and slowly moved his hands away from his face.

There, everyone could see it. The moonlight on his right socket. He was glaring at Lorenz and then at everyone. And they could see it as well, his white, vertical-slitted pupil. It was shaking and it was widening and narrowing on a frantic pace. He wished he didn’t hear that. He gritted his teeth as he bared them, showing his fangs, “ _Pity_ … you say?” his voice was rough, full of resentment. “You commend all the pain I went through…? Stop. Fucking. Around…” He really made emphasis on that. The fact he was still on his knees and everyone looking down on him didn’t really help the situation.

They didn’t understand why he was so angry. The boar was so frustrated he began to hiss, still baring his teeth and his left eye constantly changing directions, looking at everyone desperately until he fixed his gaze on Felix, “You… think so too?” he stood on his feet, his eyes still fixed on the swordsman. He was angry, but at the same time there was a great frustration on his face. Despite his anger, it looked he was about to burst into tears again, and it really showed in his voice, “If you are all going to pity me…” now his entire body began to leave ice fumes, “If you are all going to insult me by commending me…” he grew more and more irritated than before, until a great shockwave of pure power pushed everyone back. The boar screamed again with a mix of anger and sadness; now everyone could see the light tendrils that exploded from his shoulders, his back and his arms, just as Claude, Byleth and Seteth could see as always –and for some reasons, Ashe and Lysithea too–, “I WILL KILL ALL OF YOU! EVEN YOU!” He screamed as he looked at his surrogate father and his childhood friends.

Everyone had a hard time grasping what was going on, let alone why Dimitri was so angry at them and why the unnatural looks he now had. Ingrid tried to reach to him, but the power he was emanating prevented everyone from getting any close. But one thing was very clear: the boar was going to kill them all, and they had to fight back. Seteth urged Flayn to get his sacred lance and her staff to support him.

Dimitri inhaled deeply…

“Wait, is he going for real…?!” Claude said as he held Ikkar in his arms, still in his raven form.

“ _Shit…! If he really can do that, he will freeze everyone to death…! I may be forced to…!_ ” Seteth thought as he hopelessly watched the prince channelling a great amount of power.

When Dimitri opened his mouth, Seteth was prepared to return to his true form until to everyone’s surprise the boar released an absurd amount of frigid winds upwards, towards the night sky from the hole in the cathedral. When the green-haired man tried to look better, he also saw a good amount of ice crystals being released a well. Even if he breathed towards the sky, he still managed to drop the temperature, making everyone quiver.

“ _He actually did it! He just breathed frigid winds like ice dragons do in fantasy! This is really bad… but why towards the sky?_ ” Claude thought. While he was indeed surprise, it wasn’t a pleasant one; it was the bad kind of surprise where one knows they are completely fucked.

The prince then looked at them with great murder intent. Sylvain and Lorenz prepared their fire magic in case he was to breathe frigid winds at them.

Nothing happened… until Claude, Byleth and Seteth looked at the sky. Multi-coloured light surrounded the moon: a moon halo, something possible only in cold nights… such as winter nights in Faerghus. Then Felix and Rodrigue looked up and they saw it as well, as well as everyone else. They didn’t know why Dimitri forcibly created a moon halo, but Claude, Byleth, Seteth and Ikkar knew that it wasn’t good news at all. They knew he was about to reveal some Moon powers. They knew things were going to suck big time.

After some moments, there were two brighter spots on each side of them moon; Dimitri he extended one of his arms to the sky and muttered, “ _Paraselene…_ ”

Then, the Crest of Blaiddyd appeared on the moon, with the parts on each side of the Crest touching exactly at the bright spots of the Paraselene. Everyone, especially the Blue Lions, looked with a mix of fear and astonishment.

From the bright spots tendril of light began to descend coiling around each other, forming a double helix made of moonlight. It descended right on Dimitri’s hands, taking the form of a lance.

Everyone looked at the prince, who was now holding a weapon made of solidified moonlight with his right arm, still pointing it towards the sky as it continued to grow in power. And now they realized, his blue cape was no longer blue, but dark as the night sky and dotted with countless stars. As Dimitri began to channel even more power with his lance at hand, Rodrigue calmly said, “Felix. Give me the shield,” he didn’t even look at him.

“What are you going to do?!”

“I did not ask for it, Felix. Give me the shield and the rest of you, run.”

As both father and son kept arguing, Claude tried to call upon the storm clouds, trying to block the moon and prevent it from doing whatever it was doing. It answered his call but the moonlight still went through the clouds, it was still empowering the prince’s weapon.

“As if I were to let you die, stupid old man!” Felix quickly grabbed the shield and stood up in front of everyone. He raised Aegis Shield in front of him and a protective barrier manifested. As mighty as it looked, things weren’t looking very pretty for them. Rodrigue stood right next to his son and grabbed the shield together with him, making the barrier stronger than before.

Seeing their resolve, Seteth had no choice but to help them. Be bit his thumb and began to bleed. He then stood right to the other side of Felix and placed his bleeding finger right on the Crest Stone of Fraldarius, “I don’t have to explain this,” he began to say, “all I ask is both of you to trust me, and keep the shield up. This is a matter of life or death.”

Without saying anything, they nodded and kept the shield and the barrier on. Seteth closed his eyes, concentrating, “ _Listen, my sister… I know you begrudge the humans who killed you and used your bones and heart to forge this shield. But these ones are different, and while your Crest is proof of their ancestors’ misdeeds, they do not deserve and they cannot the bear their forefather’s sins forever. That’s why I beg of you of you… please, lend them your power, so that one day they may repent and grow as better people.”_

Using his awakened blood to speak with his fallen kin through the Crest Stone –actually her heart– the dragon that originally bore the Crest and Crest Stone of Fraldarius answered Seteth’s plea, and made the protective barrier way bigger and stronger than before, “ _Thank you, sister…_ ” the green-haired man sighed and held tight onto the shield, “Everyone, run while we block his attack!”

While most ran away, the Blue Lions and the Golden Deers didn’t. Hanneman stood right behind Felix and placed his hands on the swordsman’s shoulders, empowering the barrier further by assisting him through the spell Ward. Lorenz did the same with Rodrigue and Manuela did the same with Seteth, “Listen here, you fool,” she yelled right at the green-haired man, “if you think it is right for you to stay here to get yourself killed, you are dead wrong!”

“What are you doing here?! Stay back! You are past your age to stand in the frontlines, you fool!” Felix chastised the old Crest Scholar.

“Ha! You think is it right for the youth to risk their lives for the sake of the elderly?! It should be the other way around!”

“What the fuck are you saying?! You still got your dreams and unfinished business, are you going to throw it away right here and right now!?” The young swordsman kept insisting, but he couldn’t ‘persuade’ Hanneman. He hated what he just said, it sounded exactly of what Rodrigue said before they departed to Garreg Mach. As if he were able to tell him to back off. There was no way the old man was going to abandon his students, not a second time; especially when one of them was trying to kill the other.

“Enough! Brace yourselves for the impact!” Lorenz pretty much shut them off.

Everyone nodded and took a firm stance. They shuddered when they felt an overwhelming power right behind the barrier, and Dimitri still didn’t attacked them, but it was a sign he was about to do so.

He then charged forwards with his mighty radiant lance at hand and hit the barrier with all his strength. A great shockwave made everyone but the boar lose their balance, but those who held the barrier collected themselves quickly. They couldn’t afford to lose. The impact was releasing a blinding light and Dimitri was forced to close his left eye and see through the moonlight of his right socket as he kept forcing forward, trying to break the barrier.

It was just a matter of seconds before the barrier began to crack. They heard it, the cracking sound of mirror, “ _Just as I expected, we are no match to the Moon’s power even with all of our defensive might combined…! Shit…!”_ Seteth thought at the sight of the cracking barrier. A second later, it broke completely and though the lance managed to crack the Aegis Shield but it was still intact. The moonlight explosion blinded and damaged everyone behind the broken barrier, the impact pushing them back. The strike was so powerful that even the prince himself was launched backwards with the sheer strength and power he used, to the point he has pushed against the rubble and close to burying himself beneath.

Everyone was lying on the floor. While their wounds were serious, none of them were life-threatening. They got up as fast as they could despite the pain, because they knew this was only the beginning.

The prince moved from the rubble, grunting in pain and panting. He extended his other arm and this time the moonlight took the form of a sword, and he charged forward, starting with Felix, who was still lying on the ground as he was one that got the worst from the impact. However, a lighting arrow struck right at Dimitri’s chest and he stopped, falling on his knees with lightning all over his body.

Everyone looked at the Leader astonished as he held his bow made of storm clouds. Heck, even Claude was surprise to see how effective a single arrow was, stunning the charging boar for quite a long time. Given his constitution and how he didn’t give a shit about poisons, Claude expected him to brush it off despite being a direct hit to his heart.

Flayn returned quickly with the relics and she handed the lance to Seteth. She then began to heal everyone with her magic alongside those who were capable of healing. The green-haired man charged at the boar despite his wounds and Dimitri recovered quick enough to block the attack with his radiant weapon, but his arm was shaking. He was struggling to Seteth’s surprise. He then tried to push him away from everyone as he kept attacking.

Claude looked surprise to see how even they were even. His previous statements were true, Dimitri was in an incredibly weakened state and still he was holding on, but there was something off. Although his mastery with the blade is remarkable to the point that Catherine, a master swordswoman, considered him his equal, his skill with the lance was unrivalled. Why?

When Felix paid closer attention, he realized the boar’s dominant arm wasn’t working at all. Apparently the attack he used to destroy the barrier and trash everyone to the ground was something that not even his arm could endure and rendered it useless. He wasn’t really that far, Dimitri broke all of his arm’s bones with that single attack. If anything, it was a miracle said arm was still attached to his body or it didn’t explode or some wild shit.

However, that wasn’t going to last forever. The moonlight was still descending from the sky, the Moon was still bathing the prince with its light. After some moments Dimitri grabbed his blade with both hands and then it turned into a lance, now gaining the upper hand with his clash with Seteth, while still prioritizing dodging and deflecting Claude’s lightning arrows with his weapon.

The boar broke his lance in two and one of them grew to its previous size, he was now fighting with one sword with one hand and with a lance with the other. At first everyone thought it was a stupid idea until they saw how the prince was essentially thrashing Seteth all over the place. He couldn’t get close because of his swordsmanship and if he kept his distance, the sheer strength of his lance was enough to put him on the defensive. It was a rather particular style that even Felix was fascinated by it to some extent.

Once Flayn was done with healing everyone, the Felix unsheathed the Sword of Moralta and Rodrigue the Sword of Zoltan, and assisted Seteth on subduing the rampaging boar. Everyone else, however, didn’t feel fighting the prince mostly because of fear. Byleth, on the other hand, felt this was a situation it had to be solved between those who are close to Dimitri and Seteth was just there to give a helping hand. It was something the man himself wanted to do, to protect them from the prince. Because of that, he opted to support them with his healing magic, as did everyone else.

Dimitri hit the ground with the blade and there was an explosion of moonlight, blinding everyone. He lost his blade, but he still had his lance at hand. He threw Seteth against one of the pillars, cracking the structure. He then gravely injured Rodrigue and another one that was meant for Felix, but the duke took the hit for his son and he was pushed away by the sheer force of the hit. When the swordsman called out for his father, a punch that nearly took all of his breath sent him right next to him.

The boar tried to finish them off, but he was again intercepted by Sylvain and Ingrid, who took the opportunity to get their relics while Felix, Rodrigue and Seteth held him off. It was now their turn to keep him busy and to try to subdue him.

As now the relics bearers fought Dimitri, eventually the green-haired man rejoined; the hit and the impact wasn’t that great compared to what both father and son got. His body was prepared for that, he is the Earth Dragon after all. He is now always ready to take that sort of punishment. As they kept clashing, Seteth noted that the force behind the strikes were weaker than before.

While Felix was catching his breath, Flayn ran towards Rodrigue and despaired upon seeing his wounds. He was nearly torn open from left to right, bleeding to his death. She had problems concentrating, her arms were shaking terribly as she was preparing herself to heal. Linhardt tried to calm her down, but upon seeing the duke, he immediately went pale and was close of fainting on the spot. Byleth and Marianne quickly began to heal him, but it seemed he was beyond salvation.

Seeing that no one wanted this man dead, Ikkar flew right next to the dying duke and he decided to risk it. He shrouded himself with black fog and grew in size, catching everyone off-guard, while Claude and Byleth looked very surprised. They couldn’t believe he was actually doing it. Now as a bird man, Ikkar kneeled right next to Rodrigue and both of his hands hovered right on the man’s chest. Felix watched attentively as a great soothing sunlight shone from the bird-man’s hands, closing completely the wound as if nothing happened in the first place.

Rodrigue gasped for air and slowly opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was Felix’s concerned expression and the head of an oversized raven that was wearing a hat, “Wha– …who are you?”

“I am the one who delivered the scroll to you and for you,” Ikkar slightly opened his beak, giving him a smile.

Those who were not fighting looked at the bird-man very incredulous. When they got up, Rodrigue gave him a small bow, “Thank you for saving my life,” he didn’t care about his appearance. What mattered is that he saved his life, and the fact he was the same big raven that delivered the messages for him and brought the new to him.

“Think nothing of it,” Ikkar answered kindly, “Right now there are important matters at hand,” he said as he turned his head on the fight, “Are you both going back in?” he asked at both of them. When Felix and Rodrigue nodded, the bird-man could have smirked at them, praising their boldness. But the only thing he could do was to nod at them because he has a beak, not lips, “I see. Well, I got your backs.”

After finishing his words, no one understood what he meant, not even Claude. Ikkar then spread his wings and a radiant aura surrounded those who were fighting the boar and those who were about to engage with him. At first Ingrid, Sylvain and Seteth didn’t understand what was happening, until they felt it. They felt stronger, faster and their senses were better, they could now face the boar better. And even then Rodrigue and Felix rejoined, things were still the same. Even with six skilled warriors were against him, they couldn’t subdue the boar and if anything, he still had the upperhand. No matter how many times they managed to hit the boar, he did not falter. Most of the time he intentionally allowed himself to get hit in order to dodge Claude’s arrows. He would rather choose being hit by a weapon rather than being struck by lightning and being stunned in the process.

He opened his mouth again, threatening to breathe frigid winds again. Sylvain tried to counter it by casting bolganone. Dimitri breathed a rather small cold freezing wind, but it was more than enough to clash against the powerful fire spell. The result was the creation of a fog that pretty much covered the cathedral. No one could see a damn thing and when a silhouette was nearby, they couldn’t know if it was an ally or the prince until it was too late. But it was easier for him, because right now everyone was against him and he could take them down one by one. He effortlessly defeated them, but Seteth was still a challenge for the boar. But first he wanted to get rid of the healers; a shockwave of moonlight that was fired towards them, damaging them greatly. Luckily, Ikkar flew high just in time to avoid it. No one couldn’t understand how the moonlight could be so painful, it just was. While it was not as bad as the Paraselene, it was still really bad.

Out of nowhere Seteth was thrown at them without warning and several crescent-shaped moonlight were fired at them. Manuela tried to protect them using Ward, but it was broken so easily that they instantly knew it was a waste of magic and a good way to get directly hit by it. As she was being healed by Byleth and Marianne, Hanneman used his hind spells to clear away the fog. Then Claude remembered, he has affinity with wind magic as he learned some from the old scholar as well, and he assisted him.

When the fog was cleared, the boar was about to attack them, but Ikkar conjured an explosion of sunlight right on his face, stopping his attack and blinding him temporally. Taking his opportunity, Seteth pushed him away with all the strength he could muster and kept engaging the prince despite his wounds.

Now that the bird-man could see what the fuck happened, pretty much everyone was laying defeated on a pool of their own blood. He raised his arms and channelled all the magical reserves he had, and they were bathed in sunlight, healing them completely like he healed Rodrigue. Ikkar landed on the ground exhausted right next to Byleth and began to pant. He was still worried because things didn’t improve at all; it was just a matter of time before Dimitri bested them all until he was against Claude.

However… something was not being taken in count. As they kept fighting, it became evident: the prince’s strength faltered even more, he was slowly getting overwhelmed. And they could see it too. His face was no longer full with anger and pain and he grew distressed. Then out of nowhere he stopped and everyone’s weapons pierced him completely. They looked at the prince completely confused.

His conviction was firm; he really wanted to kill them all. But he didn’t have the willpower to kill those he loves and his spirit and mind gave up way sooner than his body did, especially after he saw for a few second his surrogate father on the verge of death, something he did with his very own hands. After doing such a thing, he just couldn’t take it anymore.

When everyone pulled away their weapon, Dimitri coughed blood and collapsed, but he was quickly held by his friends and his surrogate father. They gently laid him down on the ground, resting on Ingrid’s lap. Even now, the prince couldn’t stop crying.

Now that the battle was over, Claude felt it was just appropriate to clear away the sky and let the Moon shine and watch over its Envoy. The halo and the Paraselene were still up and although the Crest of Blaiddyd was no longer there and the light no longer reached the prince, now the Moon began to shed light just like it did in his dreams, crying or bleeding on and with its Envoy. However, it was something that it could no longer be seen. The weird things could still be seen by Claude, Byleth and Seteth –and Ashe and Lysithea–.

“Felix… everyone… I… what I was supposed to do…?” Dimitri asked quietly as he looked at them.

The swordsman didn’t answer him. The only thing he did was to hold him in his arms and held him tight with all the strength he had left. A hug the prince desperately needed.

“I already knew; I knew there wasn’t a way to save them,” his voice was now shaking as he sobbed, “But… what was I supposed to do? If someone told me that leaving them behind was the right course of action… that trying to save them is wrong… was my love mistaken?”

“No…” Felix quietly answered him as he laid him down again on Ingrid’s lap, “your love was never mistaken, just… misplaced.”

“We couldn’t let you keep walking this path, Dimitri…” Ingrid cried, trying to reach for him by calling by his name, her tears falling on the prince’s face.

“You are a fool, Ingrid…” the prince raised his hand, trying to reach her, but he was too weak for that. However, they held onto it, “No one can atone for their sins; no one has the power to undo one’s misdeeds… That’s why a sinner will remain a sinner, forever more… the damage I’ve caused will remain, no matter how hard I try to counterbalance it with good deeds…”

“Dimitri… atonement isn’t about undoing one’s misdeeds, but to learn from our wrongdoings and grow as better person…” Rodrigue was holding his tears, “that’s why, my boy, I must ask you… can you be better than this?”

“I… don’t know… I don’t know…” his hand was shaking terribly, but they still held onto him tightly, “Can a wretched monster like hope for such a thing?”

“Stop saying awful things,” Sylvain chastised him as he smiled despite the tears blurring his sight, “it’s my friend you are talking about.”

Dimitri looked at the ginger man rather surprised and then he chuckled weakly, “You too are a fool, Sylvain…” he tried to hold tight onto everyone’s hands, “…friends, eh?” he now began to wonder, “To think I still had those… to think that you still believe in me and you are willing to forgive my failures… those were feelings that have long since vanished from my heart…”

“Just shut the fuck up, you fool,” Felix was rather tired of his dramatic monologue. He helped him stand up, but fuck he heavy, extra heavy when he was tired, extra-super-heavy when he was still wearing that cracked armour, “Y-you stupid boar, how the fuck are you so fucking heavy?!” Because he was cursing quite a lot, everyone knew he wasn’t being serious, lighting up the mood a little bit.

“Hey, Raphael, care to help here?” Claude called the only one who was capable of carrying him.

“No worries, Claude, I’ve got this,” the big blond man came up and easily carried Dimitri on his back, “he goes to the infirmary, right?”

“Yes,” Manuela said, “I wanna check on him and I know what you are all thinking. No, I won’t hit on the prince. After taking so much punishment I just have to see how in the world you are still breathing.”

“Just… don’t get angry at me,” the prince said rather nervously looking at Manuela with a bit of fear.

“Too late for that, you fool. I am already angry at you. At least I won’t scream at you. That’s my hope anyways,” she smiled at him.

Dimitri buried his face on Raphael’s back. One could take it as he was indeed going to get screamed.

While he was being carried away, pretty much everyone fixed their eyes con Ikkar, who decided to return to his raven form and fly on Claude’s shoulder. After everything that happened, he thought he owed them an explanation tomorrow, when everyone had their rest and healed enough.

While they were preparing themselves to go to sleep, those who fought the boar needed a small check before that. Although everyone saw how powerful and effective Ikkar’s healing magic was, it was still kind of hard to believe. No wonder after healing them all, he expended all his magical resources, because he could have done much more than that.

Leaving Dimitri in one of the beds, Raphael left the infirmary, not before encouraging the prince to eat together the next day so he could get healthy again and stop looking like a ghost. While Dimitri didn’t answer, Raphael pretty much took it as a yes.

The prince was alone with Manuela and he really hesitated to undress. It wasn’t really because of the presence of a woman, or because of Manuela. The real reasons were more ugly and gruesome that she would have thought. As they began to remove his armour and he took off his sturdy leather and his shirt, she was shocked at the sight of what was done to him.

Manuela began to pace furiously until she slammed hard on one of the tables. Then she returned to Dimitri. She could have grabbed him on his shoulders and shake him, but she couldn’t do it without hurting him, and then with a rough and loud voice she asked, “Who is the bastard that did is to you?! WHO?!” she was nearly shouting.

Felix, who didn’t go to sleep and was actually waiting right outside the infirmary, heard the yelling. Given what she said, he knew someone was done to Dimitri and it had to be something really terrible for Manuela of all people to be pissed. When he opened the door to check, he was shocked. Even more shocked compared to the sight of the mangled corpses the prince left in his wake. Perhaps it was because he actually cared about him and what was done to him was someone he just had so many questions about, but above all he wanted to tear apart the bastard who did it.

Up to his collarbone, Dimitri’s upper body was nailed. Hundreds and hundreds of nails of different sizes piercing him, even his arms and fingers; apparently being used as a pincushion for weapons wasn’t enough for his aggressors to make him suffer. The amount of bleached scars wasn’t surprising, not even the one of his neck, not even the fact he was almost as pale as his hair. Those fucking nails were what stood out the most.

“Who is the BASTARD that did this to you?” Felix pretty much repeated Manuela’s question with the same level of aggressiveness.

“Cornelia… a few days after I escaped my execution. After they found out they couldn’t kill me and that I am at my weakest during the day, she personally led a small battalion of mages and imperial to ambush me when I thought I was hiding in a good spot. They held me down with their dark magic as they pierced me with these nails one by one.”

“That. Fucking. BITCH!” Felix slammed against the wall, making great emphasis the insult he just said. Then he glared at Dimitri, “And why you didn’t take them off?!”

He chose not to answer him, because Dimitri knew Felix would get angry at him regardless. He always gets angry at him for nearly everything he does anyways, he just didn’t bothered at this point.

The swordsman grunted and then looked at Manuela, “Are you going to take all of them off?”

“You think I am going to leave him like that?”

“Fine, I’ll help,” he said as he moved the table closer to the bed, “do you have any tool that may be able to remove them?”

“I know there are carpenter's tools somewhere; what we need are pincers, I just don’t remember where…” Manuela began to wonder and then she went off to find those tools, leaving Felix and Dimitri alone.

They both stayed silent. After some moments, Felix sat right next to the boar and then stared at his arm, all those disgusting nails that were piercing him. Then, he could hear his heavy breathing, “are those nails also piercing your lungs?”

“I don’t know,” he said as he looked at his chest.

“Does it hurt?”

“I don’t know,” he then proceeded to try and grab one of the nails. He used his nails to grab the head of the fastening object, and pulled it off. He left it on the table that Felix moved right in front of him, “it feels like a sting.”

At this point the swordsman didn’t know what to say. He guessed the sole reason why he is still alive is because of the moon powers after that demonstration in the previous battle. And by asking if it hurt, he didn’t meant about pulling them off, it was if it hurt just being like that, having all these nails piercing him. But if he said it feels like a sting when he pulled one of them out, then perhaps having them after all this time left the boar incredibly numb to the point of not caring about them.

Felix looked at the small hole where the nail once was. He could see how the wound was closing; apparently it was so small that it didn’t leave any scar whatsoever, almost as if the nail was never there in the first place. He then looked at the boar in the face, “And who did this,” he pointed out his empty socket.

“Me,” he said quietly.

“Why?” he didn’t ask aggressively unlike before. He thought perhaps with a calmer atmosphere his question would get answered.

“I was… desperate. I couldn’t take it anymore. I called out the Moon for its gift, so that I may strike down the Empire…”

“Why you didn’t come to Fraldarius after you escaped? Or Gautier? We would have granted to refuge without asking questioning it,” he ignored the Moon’s gift for now, for it didn’t mattered right now.

“I thought you hated me. After those false accusations of me committing regicide… I began to think that everyone in Faerghus hated me. I just didn’t felt safe anywhere.”

‘ _And why you came for me that night, then?_ ’ Felix thought. He wanted to punch himself in the face. Is true that he despises him to some degree, and is painfully true that he wished he was dead or at least truly dead… because he couldn’t face the fact the man he once called his friend was a ruthless beast that tried to imitate human decency. He wished the friend he knew was good as dead instead of having this monster staining these fond memories of their childhood despite clawing at the hope that he was still there somewhere, ‘ _What a fool I was, helping the circumstances to finish what was left of him…_ ’

Manuela returned with a pair of pincers and a rather big bowl to place all the nails. She handed one of Felix, “You know how to use it, right?”

“It’s obvious by just looking at it,” he said as he quickly removed one from Dimitri’s arms.

“I just wanted to make sure because it wasn’t the only use they have,” she said it in a rather grim tone as she began to remove the nails from the other arm. Little did Felix know that pincers are instruments of torture as well, especially when they are used in red–hot, and Dimitri knew very well. Not because he learned it by reading, but as personal experience.

“I will ignore your healing factors for now,” Manuela said as the touched the place where the nails once were, amazed by how he healed, “but I guess the moon has something to do with it, am I right?”

Dimitri nodded. Occasionally he grunted when there was a nail that was a bit too deep, but nothing serious. The whole ordeal took several minutes and when they finished, they sighed in relief, “I can’t grasp how vile one must be to do this. Out of all methods of torture that I know, this is just… ugh.”

“How it is a doctor knows methods of torture,” Felix was rather skeptical on what she just said, and for good reasons.

“Gruesome as it is, torture helped medicine to make important advances. A lot of how the human body works was possible when in times of conflicts people were tortured for different reasons,” Manuela began to explain, “just because I acknowledge it doesn’t mean I approve it, not in the slightest. But is still a fact that all doctors know and learn. And of course, one learns about torture methods so that they may identify what was done to the victim. A torturer often knows medicine among other things, so that they may know how to inflict pain without killing the victim… and to keep them alive.”

Felix said nothing. He was understandably disgusted. If Manuela knows all that sort of things, including torture methods, that means it has been documented for quite a while, or perhaps she even witnessed such event. And he didn’t want to ask, because he didn’t want to how. For all what he was concerned, he didn’t need to know.

Dimitri, on the other hand, wasn’t really surprised. He was tortured by Cornelia after all, a woman once praised as saint after she ended the epidemic of Fhirdiad, as well as improving its infrastructure. He didn’t know if she was a healer of sorts, but after the sudden shift of personality she sure did know how to inflict pain without killing. After all, he personally experienced it.

“Judging your faces it seems I said unsavory things. It wasn’t my intention, but you asked for it. Anyways, it doesn’t matter. How are you feeling, Dimitri? Physically, I mean.”

“Good call,” he said, “I feel tired, dizzy and weak. It has been this way for years.”

“I am not surprised. Let me make some small checks,” she said as she took a closer look on his face. She looked at his left eye and then she opened his mouth, “Well, at first glance is obvious you got anemia. Your tongue, your gums, you inner eyelid… all pale. But it’s strange, because people’s skin often turn rather a sickly yellow. At this point it doesn’t matter. Since you were on your own all these years, I bet your diet was rather poor even though you can’t taste a damn thing.”

“Wait, how did you know?” Dimitri was rather surprised. He just plain ignored the rest.

“Hanneman, Seteth and I had our suspicions. You never really comment on the food’s taste when you eat, so we guessed you can’t taste at all since you are the only one that can eat Flayn’s pungent food.”

“The boar isn’t the best at hiding things, let alone at deceit,” Felix added, “but I will admit I didn’t know,” he now knows why the boar often ate as if he didn’t care about food at all. That was half-true, he didn’t cared about the taste.

“Well, now you know. And you heard Raphael before, Dimitri, you better go and eat together with him. By tomorrow I expect you to eat your meat and your green veggies.”

He chuckled as he got up and began to dress himself again. Felix and Manuela looked at him rather confused. He didn’t need to his armour again, at least not while he was here in Garreg Mach, especially when he was about to sleep. But they didn’t stop him nevertheless, “Thank you, Professor Manuela,” he gave her a small bow.

“Thank me when you are feeling better. Now go to your room,” upon mentioning that she saw a bit of hesitation on the prince’s part. She was aware of that, “oh, don’t worry about the kid you consoled. He is already with the other refugees you and Claude rescued.”

He stared at her. He almost wanted to curse the archer because if she knew about the kid he allowed sleeping in his old room, it meant he told her he is still a soft-hearted sucker for children.

Felix grabbed his arm a pretty much dragged him along the way as Manuela watched them go.

When they were outside, the Paraselene and the moon halo was still shining bright around the moon. Under the moonlight Dimitri was notably and understandably better, only to feel worse once they went to their dormitories, away from the light.

When Felix accompanied the boar to his old room, he stared at the bed for some moments before getting in.

“What the fuck, boar. Take off your armour, you don’t need it,” he said as he watched baffled at the sight of Dimitri laying down his bed with his armour and cloaks on.

“I don’t feel safe without it,” he answered as he sat on the bed.

“You are safe here.”

“I know. But old habits die hard.”

“Well…” when he heard that phrase, it was kind of hard to blame the boar. He spent five years in the wild on his own. He didn’t have the luxury to sleep in a bed and he didn’t have any other option but to sleep in the dirt as he was, “if you don’t work on it, you are merely using that phrase an as excuse,” he said as he began to take off his cloaks.

Dimitri didn’t say anything nor did he try to stop him. He then helped him on taking off his armour, his boots and gauntlets. Satisfied with that, Felix turned back and tried to walk away until the boar grabbed his hand. He turned around confused, “What now.”

“Could you stay with me?” he asked quietly, looking at him tentatively.

Felix could have asked him why until he felt his hand was shaking a little. That’s when Dimitri let him go and looked away. He didn’t want to scold him and call this attitude as a way to seek his sympathy. If his previous confrontational attitude towards the boar was any warning, it wasn't really the answer. That’s why he didn’t say anything and sat right next to him, to see what he wanted other than stay with him and do nothing.

Without saying anything, Dimitri grabbed his arm again and pressed him against his body. That caught Felix off-guard. He expected some talk, not to be caged in the boar’s arms. And he wasn’t applying too much strength, he Felix could easily free himself, but he didn’t feel doing it. He let him do whatever he pleased and he didn’t do anything else other than adjusting him in his lap so he was straddling him. Then, the boar rested his head on his shoulder and held him a bit tighter.

Again, Felix could still free himself rather easily even if Dimitri tightened a little bit his embrace, it’s just he was frozen in place. Even with their clothes, he could feel how cold he was. And he too could feel his irregular breathing. He was shaking a little bit too, “Things are really quiet right now…” he quietly said as he gently caressed Felix’s back.

He didn’t know what to say. For him it was a given because he doesn’t hear things, it’s not something extraordinary. But for the boar who has been hearing things for who knows for how long, silence was truly golden for him, something he almost had a hard time to believe that things were finally quiet. To show his relief, he let out a long sigh.

Dimitri then laid down the swordsman on his bed and rested his head on his chest. That was perhaps one of the lasts places where he would let the boar’s head rest because his heartbeat pretty much betrayed him. And when he did, his heart raced.

“Is this your heartbeat?” he said in a rather tired tone, not even caring of how fast it was beating. He then sighed, “I would rather listen to your heart rather than the voices…”

As he kept listening to the heartbeat, Felix ran his hand on Dimitri’s head. After some minutes, he felt how his breathing slowly but surely became regular and his own heartbeat calmed down. Then it was Felix who began to have difficulties breathing because even without his armour, the boar was still heavy. And almost as if feeling it, Dimitri rose up and settled himself right next to the swordsman.

When Felix turned his head to face him, he saw how beaten he was. Even thought he was sleeping peacefully, it was the face of a man that really had a hard time. He got up just for a moment to take off his boots – he just realized the boar cuddled with him while he still had high boots. He also decided to take off his gloves too. Then he settled down again next to the sleeping boar and closed his eyes.

After some minutes Dimitri stretched his arms and then he abruptly warped them around Felix, pulling him into a very tight embrace before loosening his grip on him. Once again he was surprised by such action but it didn’t bother him. If anything, he finally decided to answer him in kind after staying still while he cuddled with him.

It was the first step of improving himself, and Felix would make sure Dimitri at least will regain his old colours.

* * *

_We are sad that you are hanging your head down in distress,_

_Because the pain and the suffering of the memories of the past were never relieved._

_To protect what was left of you, please, accept our love,_

_And let it free all the deep lamentations that have been created by your darkened soul._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...And why I decided to end things here? Mainly personal reasons.  
> The other one is just being done with the FE fandom, especially the 3H fandom (since a good number were introduced to FE with 3H). On all social media platforms.  
> And to be honest, I am done with fandoms in general; the bigger they are, the louder their toxicity is. Just to give you a small example, look at the Smash fanbase. Let me tell you this: the only good hater is a silent one.
> 
> For those who followed this fic, I am really sorry to end it in such an abrupt way and some of you might find the reasons to be stupid and cheap excuses, but that is just how I feel. But that doesn't mean I am not grateful, quite the opposite, I am really grateful to those who enjoyed it.  
> However, I am working on a "follow up", basically with all the ideas I had for this fic and how I wanted it to end (it still ends that way, I just won’t write it), because after this is where the positive stuff was going to start.


	11. What was meant to be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exactly what the title says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> General ideas of how things were meant to be in this fanfic.
> 
> You don't need to take my shitty excuses. Feel free to poop on me.

“ _The Divine Moon Lord was kin to both mortal and divine, with the power to swallow the sun.”_

On the subject of Dimitri…

_On his behaviour, which basically sums up his relationship with Felix:_

As he reconnects with everyone and especially Felix, he pretty much makes sure Dimitri takes care of himself and he just cannot believe the manners he took during his five years of solitude in the wilds. Dimitri sleeping with his armour on was perhaps the _least_ offensive thing he could have ever done.

He ate with his hands; while this was rather acceptable (eating without using cutlery is acceptable when it comes to certain foods like chicken legs and chicken wings), what really took the cake was Dimitri eating without chewing his food, using his fangs to rip and tear and just swallow chunks of food as they are like carnivores do. And even before taking a bite, he tends to smell the food like a canine; this is because since he can’t taste shit, he pretty much had to rely on his smell to survive, and became one of his sharpest sense as a consequence. This is what made Felix change the nickname he gave him from boar to wolf, other than the fur he was wearing. Then, he began to re-teach the wolf table manners – and by that I mean he forced him to chew his food by grabbing his jaws. He couldn’t blame him for wanting to smell the food he is about to eat because is the closest thing he has of tasting it. Hilarity ensues. Despite his weird way of eating his food, in time Dimitri got his healthy appearance back. Slowly but surely his hair returned to the old blond he used to have and his paleness fade away. And after training and exercising with Raphael, his funny dorito shape became more prominent even though he never skipped leg day.

To everyone’s shock, they caught the wolf trying to take a bath in the fishing pond, with armour and all. Felix drags him out the area to give him a proper bath. More hilarity ensues. Since Dimitri couldn’t lower his guard any second, let alone leaving himself more vulnerable, he just threw himself on lakes and river with armour, cloak and all, which was the closest thing he had for a bath. Naturally when Felix insists Dimitri to strip himself, the wolf is understandably concerned and makes a run for it. Then Felix, after looking for him everywhere, drags him again, but this time to reassure Dimitri everything is fine he strips himself first. Still unsure, the wolf reluctantly strips himself too and the two bath together. That’s when he realized that Dimitri doesn’t smell like dirt (hot take: Dimitri doesn’t smell bad) and instead, has a rather weird smell that Felix can only describe it as the moon.

Occasionally he was seen carrying things with his mouth when his arms are full. Naturally Felix calls him out of it but Dimitri just plain ignored him. To the swordsman surprise, the wolf was being gentle, not even close of breaking the thing he carried with his mouth. Of course, if he was caught by surprise, he would break anything without any effort. Yeah, Dimitri’s biteforce is nowhere as close as the bite force of a wolf because he is way beyond that. While Dima didn’t made any rough training on his jaw muscles unlike the rest of his body, those five years of solitude in the wild kind of changed it. To make it brief, he could give a great white shark or a saltwater croc a taste of their own medicine. He can hypothetically bite with a force of 1800kg, or almost 4000 pounds.

When Fhirdiad is being retaken, the rest of the blue Lions join them, with Dedue leading an army of Duscur people. Dimitri is overjoyed to the point of moved to tears to see him alive and well, and not being a ghost that returned to his homeland. As happy as the reunion was, he later returns to his ruthless side when they capture Cornelia and decides to personally torture her –not in a horny way– in order to get all the information he can. While this disturbs everyone to the point of having a hard time giving Dimitri a pass despite the prisoner being a clearly hateful enemy once everything about the Agarthans is revealed, they just had to cope as a “necessary evil”.

Felix becomes jealous when Dedue returns and Dimitri is aware. So, after he was done with the torture and everything was revealed, they decide to fuck. Dima starts with gentle foreplay but Felix grows frustrated, which can be summed up as, “Fuck me like the beast you are, you stupid, coward wolf.” That’s when Dimitri comes to the conclusion that Felix never hated his ruthless side completely, he hated it when he was being a merciless killer, but he loves the beast in bed and then he changes again to his ruthless side once again. He mounts him (Felix literally asked for it), then he sucks him and then he fucks him again, in that exact order. The next day Felix blames Sylvain for teaching Dimitri that sort of things until the ginger noble says he had nothing to do with it, and asks him how he was in the bed, to which the swordsman says “he fucks like a literal beast”, and Sylvain says “oh, so you asked for it,” and runs away giggling. Rodrigue overheard the conversation and goes to Dimitri to congratulate him for giving Felix a good fuck, embarrassing him like the doting father he is. Later Sylvain asks Dimitri to teach him the rough ways of fucking, even offering his own body for a direct and personal demonstration, leaving the wolf overwhelmingly embarrassed. Ingrid just sighed at how stupid men can be sometimes, but together with Dedue they grasped a sense of happiness and relief at the sight of them finally having good time. The stupid couple basically spent the entire day feeling embarrassed; especially Felix who had trouble walking and Dimitri decided to carry him around as if he were his bride. From that moment, pretty much everyone in the kingdom knew the affair they had.

_On his mentality:_

As you have seen in some chapters, this Dimitri absolutely _loathes_ the notion of pity, no matter the reasons or feelings. Because he sees all forms of pity as condescending, in his eyes there is no difference between pity and arrogance. If demons’ acts are driven by arrogance and the gods’ acts are driven by pity, then in Dimitri’s eyes both of them can be as sinful as mortals.

The reason why he got so angry at Lorenz for “commending everything he went through” is because he saw is as an insult. While some people would see his survival as worth praising, it is not in Dimitri’s mindset. What he thinks that should be praised is what he managed to achieve, but there was nothing that deserved praise, for all he did was pilling corpses upon corpses and ignore his people. If being pitied was already bad enough, praising the fact he is a survivor even though he did unsavoury things was just a plain insulting in his head. Lorenz tried to do well, to sympathize with him, except he was very ignorant about everything he went through and he could only grasp the very basic, “good intentions may do as much harm as malevolence, if they lack understanding,” indeed.

He still sees and hears a lot of shit… except that this time his delusions are very real, is just that not many people can see nor hear them. And this is where the main inspiration kicks in: Bloodborne. Yes, Dimitri has a lot of eyes lined up in his brain, he has a lot of Insight. While his ghosts were pretty real, their intention and nature were half-true to what he perceived. While yes, his ghosts are real and didn’t leave him in peace it’s not that they wanted vengeance in the first place. They only were hateful and ruthless in his dreams because his dreams were projections of his own state of mind. Take your guess.

Now, speaking about Insight, does this mean that Claude, Byleth and Seteth have extra eyes in their brains? Probably, but Claude is a given. Byleth and Seteth are a different situation because they had a strong divine spark since forever; whenever they got extra eyes in their brains is up to your interpretation.

And how is it that Ashe and Lysithea could see and hear them, other than being able the weird things on Dimitri’s body? They both have Insight as well. Near-death experience is a good way to get insight, because one’s soul gets a small glimpse of the divinity. Dimitri nearly died in the Tragedy of Duscur. I took advantage of Ashe’s fear of ghosts and his former life as a thief: he nearly died when trying to provide for his siblings during his days in the streets until they were adopted by Lonato. Lysithea was the sole survivor of the experiments, since she was close to death, it was a given for her and it happens she too is scared of ghosts. This means that Edelgard also has Insight since she went through the same ordeal as Lysithea. While Claude gained Insight by staying close to Dimitri for prolonged times –just like how encountering a boss for the first time in Bloodborne gives you Insight–, eventually he gained more Insight in his dreams where he could see Dimitri’s perspective to some extent, and what he truly was, until finally becoming the Storm’s Envoy. This means that eventually those who were close to Dimitri ended up with Insight; whenever it’s a good thing or not, it’s up to you –and that is kind of the point of Insight in Bloodborne–

_On his powers and by extension, the inspirations_ :

He sacrifices an eye to the Moon in order to get the night’s sight. Eventually he is associated with wolves and ravens. He is stupidly strong in both magic and physical areas and he can be a berserk warrior in the battlefield. Yeah, I took a lot of traits of Odin from Norse Mythology, not the Odin from Fates.

Obviously, his moon powers and his relationship with the moon derive from his route, Azure Moon, and the combat art of his personal class, Paraselene. However, his madness, the hallucinations, his violence and Felix calling him a beast… he is just **_the_** perfect character for Bloodborne, he could be a bloodthirsty beast like the Blood-starved Beast (Felix called him a beast-craving blood after all…) or special type of werewolf since Blaiddyd means “Wolf-lord” after all; or as a madman full with Insight. Speaking of which, I remembered seeing one edited photo of just the boss’ name changed to “Touch-starved Beast” and saying that it was Dimitri, and I giggled while internally thinking “Meanwhile Felix sees him as the literal Blood-starved Beast”. The gruesome ways he killed and all the gore was intentional, not just for the sake of violence.

And guess what Bloodborne has to fit things even better for me? The Blood Moon and the Moon Presence. To start with, the reason this Dimitri was not as vengeful as he normally is, is because of the Moon’s soothing influence on him, leading him more towards sad boy instead of the angy boy, essentially keeping the man in check. However, the exact opposite could have happened, when the Moon becomes an aggressive and a hostile force towards someone or something, turning into the Blood Moon and turning Dimitri into a bastardized version of the angy man we are familiar with. So, instead of the Moon sheding moonlight on Dimitri, the Blood Moon bleeds in the most literal way possible, and the Paraselene and the radiant weapons he wields would have been visually just a gigantic bloody mess, but not being literal blood. Now picture the Blood Moon bleeding on Dimitri with the Moon Presence descending right behind him… And another thing, the Japanese name for the Moon Presence? _Moon Demon_ /Moon Fiend, one of the nicknamed Dimitri received. And the light tendrils that sprout out from his back, shoulders and arms? Yeah, that is nod to the Moon Presence’s tentacles. Now, if the Blood Moon was to happen, the reference would be quite straight.

Dimitri shooting shockwaves and projectiles made of moonlight? Taken straight from Ludwig the Holy Blade and his Holy Moonlight Sword, but instead of being green, is multi-coloured because Dimitri straight up takes it from a moon halo, the Paraselene and other sky optical phenomena (I strongly recommend you to look them up, they are absolutely _stunning_ ).

And those who play dnd sure are aware of what a multi-coloured light means: prismatic spells. Yes, if Dimitri’s attacks with moonlight were to function like prismatic spells, he has the potential to turn the victim into stone if their constitution in not good enough, and he can potentially yeet them away to another plane of existence. Oh, and he can also invoke moonlight from the sky so, if there is any sky optical phenomena, Dimitri can throw moonlight from the heavens without any warning if he wants to. He just didn’t feel like it during the climax.

Time not getting hold on him takes him on a “meta” level. Seteth explicitly said the moonlight and the sunlight are not bound by Time itself and they spread throw all Flows of Times. What does this mean? Dimitri is aware of all the Flows of Time since he sacrificed an eye to get the Moon’s sight, reflected in the moonlight of his right socket and all the bleached wounds he has. He is aware of all the fanfics that there are out there (and in a sense, of the four routes of the game), and he is happy to see so many “Weavers of the Flows of Time” (All writers basically) trying to weave a Flow of Time to save as much as they can so that they may get a happy ending together, no matter the struggles they have to endure.

“ _Just because I am aware and I can see the other Flows of Time doesn’t mean that I have the power to prevent them. If anything, I shroud in despair to think of the endless possibilities of what could have happened to all of us in this Flow._ ”

* * *

 _On the subject of Felix_ :

Claude: You sure are close with Dimitri. I am aware of the friendship you used to have, only to be greatly strained and then turned into a greater bond. I am curious about your own feelings towards him.

Felix: My father took him as a surrogate son of sorts. However, I’ve never seen him as a brother. You already know how intimate we are. And he knows my struggles and I now know his. That knowledge still makes our relationship... complicated. To know someone that deep is as much a curse as it is a blessing.

Claude: I agree. Sometimes knowing too much is as much a curse as it is a blessing. Sometimes is more of a curse than anything. And I think I already know his struggles.

Felix: Regret. We are both bounded by that at least – No, all of Faerghus. It will be hard to free ourselves from those shackles.

Claude: Regret… that is a term that I often find it being associated with Faerghus, especially Dimitri. There are sometimes where I see him as the very embodiment of Faerghus.

Felix: Seteth once told me that emotions are tricky, especially anger and any other sentiment related to it. We always think our actions are justified because we are angry at the notion of being wounded. Faerghus was outraged at the notion that our previous king and his knights were assassinated by the people of Duscur and we thought that we were justified on that senseless genocide that followed. We answered regicide with genocide; who the true monster is, especially after learning who the true culprits were?

Claude: I am sure you want me to say your people are just bunch of entitled shits, right?

Felix: Exactly. Seteth summed it up with few words: it is not wrong to have these feelings, but we should never allow them to dictate our actions – If we do, we become no better than those who harmed us.

Claude: And what about you?

Felix: Seeing your own friend turning into a ruthless killer… anyone would have been upset. I was right to be angry at him but I’ve forget what truly mattered. I couldn’t face the truth, the fact he was still my friend. Instead of trying to understand his position and help him, all I did was to point at him and disregard his feelings and experiences. Just like the wolf, I am nothing but regrets. And Faerghus will end up the same once they realized how fucked up they were when they committed that idiotic genocide.

Claude: No offense, but I have a hard time grasping anything you all have been through. All I know you all have been hurt and because of that you made rather poor choices. But it nice to see you both are striving to be better, and I’ve already bore witness to your journey after all. If your people, and Fódlan, can grow better than this, I have no doubts this land will become a beautiful place.

As you can see, Dimitri isn’t the only one who changes for the better. Seteth’s presence was overall a positive influence on this stupid and clowny couple. However, that doesn’t mean Felix is suddenly a “pleasant” fellow. He is still blunt, straightforward and a sarcastic bitch. What changes is that he is more considerate to his friend’s feelings. He is still the Felix we all know towards those he is not familiar with though.

Claude is able to shoots his lightning arrows at Felix’s Sword of Moralta and other weapons as well, imbuing them with this element, making the blade temporally more powerful than it already is. Growing more and more familiar with this element – given his strong affinity towards it as he is able to use thunder and thoron– and despite not exceeding too much in magic, Felix is able to create a technique where he can enhance his own weapons with his own magic, even being able to “catch” natural lightning in the middle of thunderstorms. That alone turned this swordsman into yet another fearsome individual.

Felix does grow fond of Claude… of his lightning abilities and his battle prowess anyways. As a person they both respect each other, they consider call the other a friend and someone they can trust. However he is not as close or intimate as he is with Dimitri, Sylvain and Ingrid. But the fact he grew to respect and considers him as a friend that is more than enough for the archer.

* * *

“ _The Divine Storm Lord did wield the Lightning and the Wind, when Fódlan shuddered in war.”_

_On the subject of Claude_ :

In time like Dimitri and Byleth, Claude kind of begins to –unconsciously– dissociate himself from the human point of view and the human nature. While some find it as a bad thing, this is because humans are incredibly self-centred and egotistical when it comes to their own perception. Other beings like Macuil and Ikkar don’t see it as a bad thing exactly; while it does change of what he is supposed to be, is still a good thing to see the world with non-human eyes to expand even more his point of view. That is where both Claude and Ikkar understood the omen the bird-man got from his deity, an omen of both woe and weal.

If anything, Claude is rather grateful to have been granted the opportunity to see the world with different eyes and now he can see just how ridiculous humans can be, and how big the problem actually is as Ikkar once pointed it out to Byleth.

And this is where he faces a personal struggle: to eventually get rid of the Storm’s gift or not. Because not only he eventually fell for Byleth romantically and platonically for Dimitri, now that he knows that there is way more in the word, he began to wish to see it all alongside them, and his mortal life wouldn’t be enough for either of them.

After the Agarthans were dealt with and he became King of Almyra, he still had the Storm’s gift. He made sure to improve relationship with Fódlan and the other nations. Once he stepped down, he took wing on Almath’s back to return to Byleth’s side.

When it comes to the power he wields, it’s what you expect from someone who can control the storm, wind manipulation and lightning manipulation. However, there is something extremely deadly he can do, but he would never do: solar storms and solar winds. In he wants to, he _could_ roast the planet alive. Storms and winds are not exclusive to the earth, you know.

To some extent Dimitri is capable of doing it, but instead of being burning storms and winds, they are cold, like the frigid winds he used to breathe to create a moon halo and a Paraselene. If he wants to, instead of roasting the planet like Claude, Dimitri could freeze it. Remember that in this fanfic the Moon is, to put it is vague words, a cold star or so is what Seteth’s tale says.

* * *

“ _And the Blind Sage have foretold, a small ember in the dark_

_Reignited to end the war that raged across Fódlan.”_

_On the subject of Byleth and Time, and partially, Sothis_ :

Byleth is the Inheritor of Sothis, or how the Moon and the Storm make reference “the Inheritor of their murdered Kin”. Since Sothis is the “second” brightest star in the night sky, being mere embers of the Moon’s former light, this means she is one of the many children of the Moon. And her being able to produce offspring on her own, she makes the very same process the Moon did, by shedding her own light. This means that all the Nabateans are, in a sense, lesser stars created by Sothis.

While most cultures see the solar eclipse as a bad thing, there are others that see it in a more positive light, where both the Sun and the Moon join together instead of just the sunlight being blocked by the moon. In the past Sothis was “blessed” by both the Sun and the Moon during a Solar Eclipse, where a Ring of Fire was seen and bled its light on her.

When Blaiddyd and Dimitri faced each other, they forced a solar eclipse, it also served as the turning point for the Nabateans, where both the Sun and the Moon will bear witness to the retribution that fell on the Agarthans after a thousand years of pain they inflicted on everyone in Fódlan and the Moon’s child and grandchildren. Just as once the Ring of Fire bled on Sothis and empowered her, granting her the Crest of Flames, this solar eclipse and Ring of Fire bled once again on the second brightest star who is now Byleth, reigniting his flame and awakening the true power.

Once the Agarthans were defeated, he became the Archbishop for a time to reform the Church with Rhea’s help. Eventually they both step down and Claude returns for him to take him to lands yet unknown to man.

_On the subject of Time_ , Byleth is rather ignorant mainly because he didn’t know how big of a deal it is and because of the little time he had of experiencing the world with non-human eyes after fusing with Sothis.

Time is not a phenomenon that can be controlled by anyone and the one who has the most control is the god of Time. Time itself is a sentient force and its own deity; a force that shouldn’t be toyed with.

Dimitri is the one to educate Byleth on the subject, given he is not bound by it and had better perspective of how hard to grasp Time actually is and by extension, Space.

Dimitri: Although Time itself is considered chaotic by nature, it is actually kind of a mix between Order and Chaos like Space itself. Time always changes; Time is subject to Change. That is what most people say anyways. This is not the case. Think of Time as static moments; those moments that contain everything. This moment never changes. It never moves. It is always that precise moment, like a picture painted by Ignatz, or the moment you use Divine Pulse and everything is static. That is Time. It is that precise congealed moment that contains infinite moments.

Byleth: That is… kind of hard to think it that way, but is something I can grasp.

Dimitri: I know, but it will make sense, trust me. Instead of moving in Time, imagine that you move from one moment to the next, like seeing the movement of something from one picture to another in a sequence, or when you use Divine Pulse multiple times in order to see an action from one moment to another. It is the movement through each picture that changes the moment you find yourself. You are limited to what new moment you can access and your movement within it. Now imagine Time, it is Omnipresent and Static. He exists in every static moment of the picture, it is everywhere. However, Time is present; always linear. It moves "forward" through the Flow in a direct and limited way. Time is limited by Space. Time is caged by Space. That is why Time is both a Spirit of Chaos and Order like Space itself.

Byleth: Hmmm… it’s still kind of hard for me to grasp. But I suppose I will get it once I am more attuned to my new nature. I suppose those five years made you more aware of these things.

Dimitri: Subconsciously anyways. Are you aware of the other Flows of Time?

Byleth: No. Only this one.

Dimitri: In time you may, but I hope you never do. Sometime one can be overwhelmed with too many visions.

Byleth: If we take Seteth’s story to heart, how is it that I can’t despite I inherited the light of Sirius, which is in turn, a remnant of the Moon’s light?

Dimitri: I can think of a few things. The Sun, the Moon and the Stoic One precede Time itself, which is kind of hard to grasp given how we understand the universe and reality as mortals. The Moon was there _before_ Time and Space were conceived as a force and concept. Its children, on the other hand, came to be _after_ Time and Space came to be and therefore, they are still bounded to that at least. On the other hand, when I offered my eye I specifically asked the Moon for its sight without knowing what it truly meant. I should make sure no one makes the mistake I did, lest they lose their minds to the moonlight.

Byleth: And how you were able to preserve your mind?

Dimitri: Well, my mind wasn’t in the best conditions when I gained the Moon’s sight.

Basically, Dimitri didn’t go insane because he was already insane to begin with.

* * *

_On the subject of Seteth:_

Seteth takes a more prominent role. As someone who lived a long time with their mind mostly intact (if we compared him to Rhea), he has seen enough as he was taking care of Flayn while she was sleeping and healing her wounds.

Seteth’s dragon form isn’t really a “dragon” at all, but a tiger in this fanfic.

Why? Because two of the Four Saints _seem_ to be based on the Four Symbols. Indech is a big turtle, corresponding the Black Turtle of the North and represents winter. Macuil is a dragon but with avian traits, such as his beak and feathered wings, corresponding the Vermillion Bird of the South and represents summer.

Then, Seteth’s being a tiger with draconic traits isn’t a wild idea. The White Tiger of the West and the poem which the game was based, the moon refers to autumn, the season the White Tiger represents. In Asia, autumn is associated with death and mourning, something clearly related to Dimitri and his route. And this is just the beginning of Seteth’s connections with Dimitri.

Cichol’s monument is located in Rhodos Coast, _western Faerghus_. His personal weapon, the Spear of Assal, comes directly from Irish mythology, one of Lugh’s weapons (the inspiration of Loog, first king of Faerghus), the other being Areadbhar. Yeah, I feel we have been deprived from supports between Seteth and Dimitri.

Now that this was explained this leaves Flayn being a possible eastern-looking dragon, corresponding the Azure Dragon and represents spring.

Once they defeat Edelgard, and Blaiddyd, Gautier, Daphnel and Fraldarius are freed from the Agarthan’s control, Seteth reveals his true form when the javelins of light were fired at the imperial palace, protecting them from the missiles alongside Macuil, who also joined the fight at some point.

Because of the Agarthan’s technology and specifically the material which their city was built, Seteth couldn’t locate them. However when the javelins of light were launched at them is where he managed to pinpoint their location. The Agarthans thought they could take out all of them: the Nabateans they hated so much, the beasts –humans– they hate so much, and the ones they manipulated into the whole mess since forever, Edelgard and a part of the Ten Elites. As said before, they failed.

When the Agarthans are finally dealt with, to everyone’s surprise Seteth returned to Dimitri’s side, while Rhea remained on Byleth’s side to help him with his new duties as the Archbishop until they both step down and disappear from the public eye after Fódlan is stabilized.

Seteth: I see your mind is still troubled by what transpired these last years.

Dimitri: How could I not, especially after learning the root of Fódlan’s problems?

Seteth: Do you hate my kin?

Dimitri: Hating your kin would be ridiculous, and placing the blame on them would be rather short-sighted too. Just as Macuil said, humans were, are and will always be the problem. Crests as they are not a problem; problems begin when people overvalue them.

Seteth: I see. Although Rhea is at fault for crafting a belief they were a gift from Sothis.

Dimitri: If she didn’t admit her own faults, I would have been surprised hearing bold words coming out from your mouth.

Seteth: Just because we are family doesn’t mean we do or have to agree on everything. I am sure you are familiar with it if you recall Felix and Lord Rodrigue’s relationship.

Dimitri: Right you are. …The fabrication of the belief that Crests and Relics were a gift from the Goddess is something that I can understand. If humans were to know the truth, you would have been all hunted, especially with the knowledge that your blood alone can grant a Crest, just like you, Rhea, Indech and Flayn did for some of the noble houses of Adrestia. If someone says that Crests are at fault because of the problems that revolved around them, then they are dodging a bigger problem.

Seteth: After the war ended I left Rhea’s side to watch over my daughter, so I wasn’t present when the Church was founded. And even then, I still don’t know what the correct course of action would have been for humanity. Crests weren’t meant for them at the moment. And the Relics… well, they weren’t meant be in the first place.

Dimitri: Seeing the reasons where the problems began, I doubt it would have changed a thing. Because selfish people don’t care what they must do or where power comes from. As long as they can get their hands on it, they’ll do it. Nobility’s attitude towards those with Crests, objectifying them and seeing them as a means to an end… that is proof enough. Even if told with the best of intentions, not everyone will catch said intentions; and there will always a group of people who will selfishly abuse them for their own gains.

Seteth: What will you do after Fódlan is stabilized?

Dimitri: I will step down, of course. Just as society change within the Flow of Time, so too must its ruler. Besides it wouldn’t be right for me to be the king of Faerghus forever. We don’t want the history of the Agarthans to repeat itself, don’t we?

Seteth: You are right. However, that doesn’t mean we can’t provide guidance, just like I tried to guide you.

* * *

_On the subject of Rhea:_

After being rescued Rhea was surprised to see Macuil and Seteth’s true form before he changes to his human form again. She is even more surprised seeing four of the Ten Elites on their side. Just like Macuil, Rhea still has a hard time forgiving them, but she kind of loosens a bit after hearing their side of the events. The feathered dragon, however, still loathes them.

Because of everything that transpired, Rhea doesn’t hesitate to share the truth about Nemesis and the Nabateans… or her point of view of the events anyways.

While the army prepared themselves to attack Shambala, Dimitri a Rhea have talk in private. Upon hearing the other’s story, they both resonate deeply with the other and this is where the dragon pope sees one of the wrongs she did and she tried to do. While Dimitri still didn’t let go of his past and his ghosts –his ghosts being half-true and something that Rhea could see– he still accepted their deaths. On the other hand, Rhea never accepted Sothis’s death and tried many times to revive her because it was a possibility. However Dimitri’s family were humans, mortals. Once they are gone, they are gone, they cannot be brought back to life and that is something that humans have come to terms with since forever. And is something that Rhea finally learned from Dimitri and humanity. Just like the Nabateans once shared their skills and knowledge to humanity, it was time for them to teach Rhea something of value: death is not something that should be denied because it is a promise.

At the end Rhea _kind of_ falls for Dimitri, but he never reciprocated her feelings; not that he was aware of them in the first place. Eventually she realized that good part of her feelings comes from being understood by someone who went through the same pain as her. This becomes evident when while they both deeply empathize with the other, in the end Dimitri’s feelings were still with Felix.

* * *

 _On the subject of Macuil and to some extent, Ikkar and the_ _aarakocra_ _:_

In this fanfic Macuil’s misanthropy was meant to be shown fully, not without admitting his kin’s faults as well.

To start with, after the kenku were wiped out, the aarakocra were next and most of their houses and habitats were put to the fire, while the murdered residents were completely plucked and their feathers used as ornaments and clothing. Given the aarakocra average lifespan –less than half of the human average lifespan at the moment– they knew that waging war against them would only lead to their demise and they scattered across the world.

However, once humans began to tame and ride flying beasts like wyverns and pegasus, the aarakocra had to learn how to take a fully animal form to being seen. In time, it became a part of their identity, being able to change form as natural as it is for one to breathe, and it saved them from being killed. However… there were some aarakocra that lost themselves in their animal forms, forgetting what they are and remaining as animals. If humans were to know they would probably say, “It’s just just them returning to what they should be: mindless beasts,” or something among the lines. Ikkar was in the middle of the process as he forgot how his voice originally sounded in the first place, and all he could do was to mimic Claude’s voice and occasionally changing between voices just to tease the very few he trusts.

A group of aarakocra eventually found themselves in the southern region of Sreng, where Macuil dwells. Upon sighting such a creature, matching some of their physical traits, the aarakocra wondered what kind of being the Nabatean was and upon hearing the other’s story, the dragon decided to take them under his protection. In time the aarakocra began to worship Macuil although the dragon warned them to not to expect any kind of answer to their prayers because he doesn’t hear them; he is not as omniscient as the birdfolk paint him to be, he is just their protector. While eventually they stopped worshiping him, they still think of him in high regard and the dragon could hardly blame them, for the aarakocra could finally be themselves without fear of repercussions.

Upon hearing Seteth’s reawakening, Macuil began to wonder. And when he heard the earth scream in agony, Macuil broke through the imperial palace from the ceiling. Upon sighting Hegemon Edelgard and claiming that humans shouldn’t be pawn of the gods, Macuil grows infuriated with her because she was using the Spirit of the Earth –where the Flowers bloom– to fuel her powers and destroy those who oppose her, which in turned to be extremely painful for Seteth, who is connected to the earth and being the Earth Dragon himself. When Blaiddyd, Gautier, Daphnel and Fraldarius joined the fray to aid Edelgard, they were freed by Dimitri after he and Blaiddyd forced an eclipse and they both used the sunlight and moonlight to their ends.

Upon defeating Edelgard and hearing the true from both Blaiddyd and Rhea, Macuil’s opinion on humanity doesn’t change at all. While some people blamed the dragon for “meddling” in human society and their affairs, Macuil gives them a _very rude awakening_ :

“So, you excuse the genocide of my kin who did nothing but being benefactors towards you? Is that how you repay your parents who raised you, then? Do you kill your mother and your father to show how much you’ve grown and how better you are than them? You should hear yourself, pathetic and ridiculous. I just want to tear all of you to shreds upon hearing such rambunctious words coming from that ungrateful mouth.”

“And what about you, I wonder? Your kind is content with having all sorts’ of cattle; ruling over them and dictating how they should live, even what they should eat, and how they should die; all to serve your needs. You don’t even see them as creatures, you see them as resources. Of course, you will excuse yourself that you need what they provide to survive. Guess what, even though some of my brothers and sisters did rule over humanity of old, it was all they did. Just because they ruled over them didn’t mean they were oppressive. Your kind still were able to advance and make all the progress they wished for with all the knowledge we happily provided for you. I was happy to see you grow, to see how far you reached. And that’s when we have decided to grant all of you Crests, distributed based on your skills so that you may rise even higher and to break your mortal bonds.”

“A bad analogue because you are humans and they are animals? Everything you do to another creature is acceptable, but when the tables are turned suddenly its evil because humans are the victims. You are painfully self-centred; your incurable and insufferable ego is the root of your wretched problems. You are quick to degrade another person as a beast because their behaviour is not like “your human standards” and yet at the core you all still behave like base beasts. All of your problems, all of your conflicts can be summarized as to egos clashing against another, not that different when animals wrestle each other for dominance. You don’t like how the other imposes their dominion over others, so you start a war to impose yours under the excuse you do it for the sake of the victims. Your history has been like this since forever.”

“The kenku, the aarakocra and my kin, we are all victims of your human-centred ego. You think that something that “lacks humanity” is bad. Then what it means to “have humanity”? For what I have observed all these years, is to be a base beast that immediately kills the other and uses the other for their selfish goals. Your insufferable way to think that everything revolves around you and that even the universe itself was made solely for your benefit, and if is not, is something that must be destroyed. Our mistake was to grant you knowledge without making you understand your place in the world. The Agarthans are intellect without wisdom, knowledge without purpose; a product of our mistakes.”

Macuil completely _shits_ on humans and not without good reasons. The Nabateans’ mistake was to help humanity without knowing them well enough. Did humans need their knowledge? Perhaps, yes. Did they deserve it? No. Until humans humble themselves, they do not deserve anything but an opportunity to grow. Especially not the Crests they _took_ from their benefactors. Because no matter what belief is placed upon them, as long as humans are selfish, there will always be problems no matter what changed are made within society.

Humans were already self-centred and haughty before the Natabateans came in. Wiping out the kenku and threatening the aarakocra and many other races long forgotten by humanity, because they don’t look or behave like humans is proof enough. Even amongst them, humans wage war, shun and kill the other because their skin colour, their ideals or their beliefs don’t align. This is something that baffles the aarakocra, told by Ikkar. The old bird-man says that such things don’t happen between the birdfolk even though the disparity of their feathers is way more varied than the soft skin of humans. Even the aarakocra didn’t shun the kenku for lacking wings and instead, they helped them strive in nature. But they were unable to save them when humans wiped them out.

History is told by humanity’s point of view, and they see themselves as in the right, especially when something that is not human is involved. But Claude and Dimitri who were once humans managed to see both sides of the story and they reached to one conclusion: humans are indeed shit. But they do not deserve to be wiped out. They deserve an opportunity to grow better from what they currently are.

Macuil helped the army to deal with the Agarthans, not for the sake of humanity but as a payback for what they did to his family and is surprised to hear Blaiddyd’s curse on them.

Once they were dealt with, Macuil returns to Sreng to keep watching over the aarakocra and invited Ikkar to join him and live his lasts years in peace with his kind. However, the old bird-man decided to stay on Claude’s side, secretly wanting to see a different land with his own eyes. Understanding his disposition, Macuil granted him his blood in secret, so that Ikkar may live a long live exploring the world he wants to see. Even knowing what happened, Ikkar was more in love with adventure and he never took a partner.

In the end, while Macuil is willing to forgive humanity, he is still not ready for it, for he thinks they do not deserve it yet. He is willing to do so and may be guide them once again... only when they stop being racist towards each other, because if humans can barely tolerate each other, how can they tolerate someone that is not human in the first place?

* * *

“ _And the Blind Sage have foretold, when Agartha with a pride enough to scorch the world_

_The Heaven’s Envoys rise up to Eclipse them forever and then.”_

_On the subject of the Elites:_

Blaiddyd was teased a couple of times in the firsts chapters. He was going to make a physical appearance like the other Elites and Nemesis. Here, they are still people who took the Blood of the Nabateans and used their bones and hearts to craft the Relics.

However, it’s not like Nemesis had too many choices. The Agarthans threatened to release several javelins of light to lay waste on all of Fódlan and its people and Nemesis had to choose: kill the Nabateans or let the Agarthans kill everyone on Fódlan and then possibly, kill all humans because in their hubris, they are nothing but beasts wearing human skin.

There wasn’t a choice for Nemesis, he was just a lowly bandit and tried to survive on Fódlan. He wasn’t strong enough to stop the Agarthans and even if he got Sothis’ blood and the Sword of the Creator, crafted with her bones and heart, then what? Perhaps with that power he could have confronted them but he still lacked the power to stop the javelins of light, let alone the power to heal the land like Sothis did.

And so, he did take Sothis’ remains and he still slaughtered all the Nabateans he could, but Seiros managed to escape without his knowledge. And then the Agarthans spread knowledge to foreign lands that in Fódlan there were powerful resources, which prompt them to invade them and to pillage them. Without knowing this, Nemesis couldn’t protect Fódlan from all sides; he needed powerful allies to protect the people. So, he granted the ones who would be known as the Elites the blood of the Nabateans to break their mortal limits and grow stronger with each battle won. And then the Relics were crafted to defend their lands.

These allies lost their families to the foreign people, but it hit Blaiddyd the worst, for he witnessed how the people of Sreng desecrated, pillaged and burned the village where he lived and his mind shattered. He was about to sacrifice an eye to the Moon, until Nemesis reached out for him. Blaiddyd was the first to accept the blood of the Nabateans and he proudly wielded Areadbhar, the hand of the strongest before the Creator. Upon witnessing the slaughter that followed in the name of vengeance, the others followed and accepted the blood and the relics. None of them knew their true origin.

They pushed the foreigners back, the people of Fódlan indeed saw them as heroes and they became known as the Elites. In time, they started their own families again. Except for Nemesis who was still troubled for what he did and knowing the Agarthans were still out there, still plotting against Fódlan.

But Seiros wanted vengeance too. And when she killed Nemesis, the old man saw the same hatred Blaiddyd once had and when the word “Red Canyon” came out from her mouth, he realized who she was. He would have gladly accepted dying at her hands, because he thought he deserved it. But he feared at the thought on the pain he inflicted on her, and the Agarthans were still out there, laughing at both of them.

When Seiros began to hunt them down, the Elites didn’t know why she was so angry at them. Blaiddyd plucked one of his eyes and offered it to the Moon and asked why this was happening to them. He was horrified at the knowledge he got. The Holy Blood he drank wasn’t given but taken. The weapon he proudly wielded to protect Fódlan and his people were crafted by the Agarthans by using the corpses of Seiros’ kin. And then he plucked his other eye to know why the Agarthans were doing this and if one day they would be punished for what they have done. He despaired even further, nothing but a tale of petty hubris. All that humanity did was to bite the hand that fed them because they thought themselves to be greater than said hand, and because the hand was not human. But to his relief, in time the Agarthans would be punished for their petty hubris.

The Lords of the North insisted to know why this was happening Blaiddyd didn’t share the revelation, for they would end up horrified at the revelation. After so much insistence, he shared the ugly truth. Even though they despaired they found a bit of solace that in time the true aggressors would be punished. They were the firsts to accept their own punishment.

But there was one who also insisted for the truth, Maurice. But unlike the others, he despaired beyond recognition and rejected everything. By rejecting a part of what he is, his own blood reacted negatively and he turned into a hideous, monstrous dragon. Because he took the Holy Blood of a dragon, Maurice thought he could regain his humanity by consuming the blood of humans. And he killed, and killed, and killed until there was only blood in his mind, seeking the precious blood without knowing why he was doing it in the first place. A thousand of years later, he would finally be put down by one of his descendants alongside Seiros herself under the name of Rhea. The saint told him he could finally rest in peace, but Maurice feared that there was only suffering waiting for him, as a payback for all the people he consumed, and for the crime of drinking the Holy Blood of her kin and degrading them by using their corpses as mere tools.

Blaiddyd, Gautier, Daphnel and Fraldarius were the ones who were sent as reinforcements to aid Edelgard.

To everyone’s surprise, Blaiddyd absolutely _trashed_ Dimitri around, for he too was an Envoy of the Moon in agreement to strike down the Agarthans. He knew his descendant would free them from their vile control. They called up upon the Moon itself, forcing an Eclipse. It was the promised day. Blaiddyd tried to use the sunlight and the moonlight to kill them all, but Dimitri used it to free him and his allies.

When the Elites turned against Edelgard, she couldn’t understand why the Champions of Humanity would turn their backs on them and join the divinity. Nemesis and the Elites were indeed champions and they fought for humanity, the Emperor was just completely ignorant of the truth and it was too late for them to reveal it to her, for she was far too gone in their eyes.

On their way to Shambhala, they are intercepted by Nemesis and the rest of the Elites. During the fight, the Ring of Fire sheds its light on Sirius and Byleth’s fire reignites once again to free them. Eventually, the Agarthans are wiped out, the ones they manipulated, the ones they tormented for so long, finally bit them back.

With his last pathetic breath, Thales spits hollow and meaningless insults at everyone. But Blaiddyd, loud and clear, screams back, shocking everyone as he invoked the Blood Moon, and placed a curse on all Agarthans as it bled on their leader:

“I curse all of you right here and right now! I curse you to be rebirth to be only prey! And it will be this way until you have all experience the pain of every single life of this world in all these years, which probably means thousands and thousands of lives full of suffering waits for all of you!"

As you can see, Blaiddyd went full feral on Thales and the Agarthans. And after everything was done, as they began to fade Nemesis and the Elites wished for nothing but for the people of Fódlan and the Nabateans, especially Seiros, to find peace in their souls.

Nemesis and the Elites recognized their wrongs and tried to make amends for it. They couldn’t grow better for they didn’t have time for it but still, the time they had was more than enough for Macuil to forgive them, for he finally found peace with them. But when it comes for humanity as a whole, he still can’t forgive. Not yet. Just because a small bunch did better doesn’t mean they speak or act in humanity’s name, for the majority wouldn’t do what they just did.

* * *

_On the subject of Edelgard:_

Edelgard didn’t change too much from how she is portrayed all routes but her own.

However, unlike Azure Moon, Edelgard doesn’t even parley with Claude and Dimitri and they ask for an audience the three alone, she instead sends mages from Agartha to strike them down.

Since she loathes the idea of humans being used as pawn by divinity, with Byleth being the inheritor of the Goddess and Claude and Dimitri being the Envoys of the Storm and the Moon respectively, she has completely given up on them as sees them as enemies that must be destroyed at all costs.

When she is cornered, just like Azure Moon, she gives up her own humanity and enslaves part of the Spirit of the Earth by making use of the Crest of Flames, transforming herself into Hegemon Edelgard. However, this form is more like the amazing fanarts where it depict her more like a multiple-winged eagle-monster, a nod to her surname, Hraesvelgr, a giant eagle –or a giant that takes the form of an eagle, take your pick– and means “Corpse Swallower”. Also interesting facts, is often confused with another eagle –some sources say its named Vedfolnir, which in other sources is a hawk that sits between the eyes of said eagle, others may say it is indeed Hraesvelgr and not just an unnamed eagle– that has a bitter rivalry with a wyrm –some may say dragon, others may say a snake– Nidhogg. The eagle sits atop of Yggdrasil and Nidhogg resides below the world tree. A squirrel named Ratatoskr carries the messages between the two bitter enemies. Yes, Ratatoskr delivers a message from Hraesvelgr to Nidhogg, with the eagle saying, “You suck,” and then the dragon answers, “You suck too,” and the squirrel delivers the message back. The rivalry between these two is quite a nice nod to the bitter rivalry that Rhea –a dragon– and Edelgard have.

Anyways, with the powers of the Earth at her command and being able to fly, she was proven to be a difficult foe. With several roots breaking the ground and straining her enemies, flowers bloomed quickly and their petals scattered everywhere. They were distractions, for then they were scorched, burning them all. However, it was countered with Dimitri’s frigid breath and when the fog was created, it was quickly blown away by Claude’s winds. She couldn’t face too many divine beings on her own, especially when part of the Ten Elites turned their blades on her.

When she returns to normal the killing blow is delivered by Manuela and then Dimitri carried her corpse to the gardens of the imperial palace. He laid her down among the flowers right next to Hubert. He then asked for the Spirits to not be rough on her and her people, for they were only pawns.

The Great Spirits of Old didn’t have a beef towards the Empire or Edelgard for the matter. They just wanted the Agarthans out of the map and help Fódlan in their own questionable ways. It turns out the Agarthans dragged literally all of Fódlan, and even their neighbours into their petty agenda.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone.


End file.
